Nothing remains the same
by Carmilla DeWinter
Summary: Maul Obi slash AU, six years pre TPM In another life, he did not stop by the cactus garden. In another life, he was not punished for his tardiness, which was worth something. Anything. Nothing.
1. Intro

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, George Lucas does.

Title and chapter headings taken from Pain's 'nothing remains the same' album

Summary: Maul/Obi-Wan slash AU, set six years pre-TPM… "In another life, he did not stop by the cactus garden. In another life, he was not punished for his tardiness, which was worth something. Anything. Nothing."

Rating for safety (some violence, some language and an orange)

Usual caveats: I'm German. If you find a mistake, please bother to correct me.

A/N: Yes, this is slash. If you don't like that, go somewhere else. Also, please note this is an alternate universe, so of course it's a stretch. EU will be ignored as needed. Likewise, I couldn't help to be influenced by the Maul/Obi stuff that is still left on the net, but I did try not to plagiarize. I bow to the respective authors.

Xxx

Nothing remains the same

Intro

_In another life, he did not stop by the cactus garden._

…It was an arena-like structure on top of a building, terraced with dry-stone walls, allowing the cacti the maximum amount of sunlight without leaving them open to the wind…

_He did not relish the smell of burnt earth and the feeling of sun on his skin. He did not allow himself to feel the peace there._

_The little boy did not wander up to him_.

… "Are you sick?"

Maul looked down. The child was hovering in front of him, nearly bursting with curiosity, all wide eyes and a shock of sand colored hair. Four or five years old, maybe. He didn't have much practice at guessing ages.

"Them lines on your face." The boy pointed. "They're scars, right? That's why you wear the hood."

Somehow, it was an apt description. "They are tattoos", he explained, and caught himself. He'd been told not to converse with strangers.

"Oh. What's tattoos?"

Maul was saved from an answer by a woman who came hurrying down some stairs, radiating worry. She was short, with the same sandy hair as the child, and had an aura of caring around her.

"Aiken", she scolded, softly. "You can't just run off as soon as I'm not looking."

The boy nodded guiltily.

"I hope he wasn't too much of a bother", she addressed Maul.

"No… it's quite alright."

She nodded, relief washing off her in waves, before she grabbed the boy's hand and they retreated. He could hear the child telling her happily about his little adventure; loads of idle chatter, and she actually seemed to be listening.

Maul couldn't think of a time he had spoken so much when not prompted. Shutting up was probably the first thing he had learned from his Master. He couldn't quite remember, his early years were just a haze of darkness in his mind.

It was also quite difficult to pinpoint the time when he'd realized that his bringing up was as far removed from normal as it could possibly be, and that he was, in popular language, completely and utterly fucked up.

Shying away from that line of thought, he grounded himself and went back to his assigned quarters.

… _In another life, he was not punished for his tardiness, which was worth something. Anything. Nothing._


	2. 1: it's a good day to die

Nothing remains the same

Part 1: it's a good day to die

The plan was simple, really. She'd left the body guards in the elevator, as always, and didn't even run back to it when Maul made the lights die. She just went on, cursing under her breath, feeling her way along the corridor. Why she chose to live in such an unassuming building was quite beyond him.

He heard her fingertips grazing the wall and the occasional door, her footsteps, heels clacking, and her soft breaths. She passed after long seconds, all he had to do was grab her from behind and close his hand over her mouth. After a startled second, she fought, trying to stamp on his feet, which he evaded easily, making her project even more fear. Finally she threw her head back, and although he did his best to not be hit, their skulls connected. She yelped when she caught a horn and bit his hand as an afterthought. A layer of skin was sheared off, painfully, slowly.

He whirled her around and slammed her against the wall, trying to ignore the pain, which wasn't quite as easy as expected, and trying to battle his anger, this rage that wanted to just make her pay… he should have seen it coming. He was trained to anticipate his opponent's every move, see it in the fluctuations of the Force. Yet it had left him to struggle, because neither she nor the Force seemed to know what she would do next. Her fear left a metallic taste in his mind, not unlike blood; it felt good, but it did not help him to decipher the currents in the Force.

He decided that playing nice was overrated, and reached for his lightsaber. Just so she knew she was in real danger.

"This is getting tiresome, Senator", he said, to her fluttering heartbeat and shallow fast breathing.

Her mouth moved softly, warm and sticky, against his hand.

The mechanism holding his saber clicked. Her fear spiked, and even though he knew what was coming he couldn't bring himself to move – suddenly the path forked and straight ahead was a meaningless and untimely death, while to the right there was a whirl of uncertainty, and how could he not choose to veer off – until the knee connected with his crotch and he doubled over in pain, letting her go, and she screamed, and suddenly she stopped screaming, and all he could hear was the soft hum of the saber and all he could see was that surprise in her wide eyes that reflected the red glow perfectly. Her bloodstained lips twitched, let her look like the pale goddess of death.

Finally, she blinked, once, and the fear receded to something akin to peace. He had the sudden idea that he might be forgiven, and then it finally hit him, so he switched the saber off and ran.

xxx

Obi-Wan followed his Master through a glass door that somehow managed to inspire guilt, into the murder investigations department of Coruscant Security, Senate District. No one had bothered to tell him or Qui-Gon what this was about, but he felt vaguely uneasy. Big things were about to happen.

They were awaited by a short fat human who introduced himself as Inspector Rayden and hurried them off to a small cramped office that matched his sweaty, neglected look perfectly.

Qui-Gon took the proffered chair after eyeing it critically for a moment, leaving Obi-Wan to lean against the wall, which at least didn't give him the feeling that he was going to catch a disease any minute.

"So, Inspector…", Qui-Gon finally said. "What is the issue you needed to see a Jedi about in a hurry?"

"Senator Nayda Undan of Iridonia was killed yesterday night. With a lightsaber."

Obi-Wan blinked. Somehow the news didn't surprise him much, though Qui-Gon went trough the usual moves of disbelief.

"Are you sure about that, Inspector?"

"The coroner is sure. Nothing leaves quite the kind of wound as your favorite toys do." Rayden smiled thinly and suddenly didn't look so hapless anymore. "It went right through her left lung into the wall beyond. Some unfortunate soul even saw the blade pierce a hole into his kitchen."

Qui-Gon drew a long breath. "You can't imply that we have anything to do with this."

"I don't, Master Jinn. Unless, of course, someone is selling practice lightsabers on the black market, which I doubt."

How very generous. The conclusions left were, however, less amusing.

"Is there any information on the killer you would share?", Qui-Gon asked. "We might be dealing with a rogue Force user here…"

The inspector rubbed the bridge of his nose, projecting tiredness. "That's the exact reason why we called the Temple. You'll get all the info we have."

Qui-Gon nodded curtly. Trying for an impression of coolness wasn't a Jedi thing to do in a situation like this, so Obi-Wan moved towards the desk to stand behind Qui-Gon. The inspector shot him a knowing look.

"Very well. The coroner says that there was some kind of struggle before the Senator died, and the killing was most likely an accident. As far as we can discern, she gave as good as she got, so we have a number of sources for DNA material. Also, a few weeks ago, she contacted Senate Security about some messages left in her office, that very pointedly told her to give up some rally she led, or else. We suspect that the 'or else' part went wrong yesterday. As to the genetic screening…", he dug around the chaos on his desk, then handed over a datapad, "you'll find the results and everything else on this. Our killer is some Zabrakian-human mishmash, male, the telomer analysis says he's twenty plus/minus five standard years, and he's got a midichlorian count that's downright creepy."

Qui-Gon nodded, scanning the display, and finally held it up for Obi-Wan to see. "A little higher than yours, Padawan, if I remember correctly."

"Yes, Master." It wasn't breaking the scale, but he suspected any kind of moderately high midichlorian count was creepy to non-Force sensitives.

"This is worrisome. May I ask what color the blade was reported to be?"

The inspector grinned, smugly, as if Qui-Gon had just ran into a trap he'd set. "Red. The witness was very adamant about that."

Oh. Oh Sith. Literally. Most likely, in any case. Obi-Wan wondered why his Force senses hadn't alerted him to this earlier, or why all he felt was an almost pleasant flutter of excitement, and not all-encompassing dread.

"I gather you had a look into the history of our order", Qui-Gon finally said.

"I didn't get much sleep in", Rayden allowed. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to help me to hunt for a Sith, or at least for someone who believes he is one."

xxx

Consciousness came back in trickles, cool smooth floor under his cheek, the smell of scorched fabric and a lingering trace of ozone.

Maul opened his eyes and stared at his hand for a long moment. There were blisters on every visible patch of skin.

He wondered why he wasn't dead yet. He had failed. His first outside assignment, the first actual show of trust the Master had given him, and it had boiled down to him panicking when things had gotten out of hand. No. There was no use lying to himself. A part of him had hoped his miserable existence would finally end, like in that vision.

Then, he had died as the first pawn sacrificed in his Master's ploy to take over the galaxy. Something big had been coming, then, his future self had known that. Maybe it was still coming. Only one thing was sure – if he stayed here and ignored the offering of the other path, he would eventually be betrayed. His future self had never realized until it was too late.

He let some breath out, softly. He had to get up and put some bacta on the wounds and concentrate on the healing. Just not right now. Not when the floor was so wonderfully cool on his burning skin.

xxx

The Council wasn't quite as susceptible to the evidence as Rayden had probably hoped.

Obi-Wan stood next to Qui-Gon, waiting for their silent discussion via the Force to end.

"The Sith have been extinct for a millennium", Master Windu finally said. "We do not think it's wise to panic at the mention of a red lightsaber."

Yoda made a small sound of disagreement.

"However, we will lend them an inhibitor collar,", Master Windu continued. "Master Jinn, you and your Padawan will continue to aid the Security and, if an arrest is made, we will question the killer."

Somehow, Obi-Wan wasn't reassured by the lack of concern, and his Master almost made to protest, but thought better of it.

They returned to the murder department after picking up that collar, and went to discuss how they were going to draw their Sith out.

xxx

Maul dropped to one knee and did not dare to look anywhere but the floor. By now he knew the abstract mosaic of black and anthracite tiles by heart.

"My Master."

"I have an assignment for you."

"Yes, my Master."

"Apparently our friend Kenner vanished. There is quite the uproar about that among the Security. They believe he may be involved in your little adventure of two days ago. You will find him and dispose of him. In a less noticeable way than you did with the poor Senator."

"Yes, my Master."

Maul did not rise until his Master was well out of the door.

xxx

It was a wild shot at best. They had interviewed Senator Undan's aides and found one by the name of Ral Kenner, who had a few suspicious holes in his memory. They had staged his timely escape, with a buzz of 'wanted' messages going out to every Security station on Coruscant.

Obi-Wan sat in the speeder and watched the door to the aide's apartment. They had lucked out with the location. The block was a fancy design, in the form of a vast ring, with the doors facing the courtyard. Currently, Rayden and some snipers were on the roof, with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan halfway across the circle and two levels higher, using their best Force cloak.

A wild shot at best, yes, but as a small black speeder bike zipped into view he knew it had hit. The bike spun to a stop on the landing patch of the gallery, in a completely unnecessary flourish of a maneuver.

The driver, also clad in black, and hooded, climbed off and leaned on the railing, looking down. After a minute or so, he seemed to collect himself and walked to Kenner's apartment, where he opened the door by hacking the lock.

Before entering, the Sith turned around for a moment and seemed to look directly at Obi-Wan. Oddly enough, it did nothing to Obi-Wan's sense of foreboding. Ah, well. He started the speeder and brought them to the landing patch, blocking the bike in the process.

xxx

It was a trap, as expected. Somewhere out there several persons were waiting, lurking, hoping for prey. They had even brought some Jedi, which was just as well.

For a moment he had contemplated to spare them some trouble by jumping, but couldn't bring himself to do it, coward that he was. And if he took some Jedi with him, at least his training wouldn't be completely wasted. He made a show of looking through the apartment, which bore all the marks of a hasty departure, and he even had a go at the dataset, turning up naught.

When he sensed the Jedi taking places on either side of the door, he walked out, drawing his lightsaber. It was a Master-Padawan-team, the Master a big, hulking human, and the Padawan much slighter, of maybe Maul's age. He seemed familiar, it was him that had waited at the end of the straight path.

Maul twirled his saber once and ignited one blade. Pity there wasn't enough room on the gallery for providing them with a real show. One green and one blue blade hummed to life in response, the Jedi Master all serene confidence, the Padawan apprehensive and biting his lips. That one wouldn't last a minute, no matter what the vision said.

Maul turned and attacked the Master.

xxx

Time seemed to stretch when the Sith stepped out of the apartment. He was a little shorter than Obi-Wan and not at all what he had expected. Sure, he was vaguely Zabrakian, a ring of small horns but no hair, yellow eyes, and his face was barely recognizable behind the red and black tattoos, but still… he seemed awfully young. This was a damn kid.

The Sith idly ignited his strange lightsaber, and, after giving Obi-Wan a once over, whirled around and made a wild slash at Qui-Gon. Only then the Sith's Force aura became tangible, a touch of darkness… anger, fear, and deadly determination.

Time slowed down another notch. Qui-Gon parried and launched into a counter when something came hissing through the air and struck the Sith's shoulder, making him start. One of Rayden's stun darts, gleaming silver on the black cloth, but there never had been any warning from the Force.

The red blade was lowered, and Obi-Wan could see the panic in Qui-Gon's eyes as he had to redirect his movement so not to behead the Sith. It was close, the saber singed a horn in the process.

The Sith shook his head, as if disappointed, and sank to his knees, where he promptly passed out.

xxx

"What did you think you were doing?"

Qui-Gon was obviously not amused by Rayden's intervention; yet the inspector remained unimpressed and continued his search of the Sith's pockets for a moment. So far it had been fruitless.

"I've seen enough arrests to know when someone is making a stand. I couldn't be sure until he attacked you, so I hoped for the famous Jedi reflexes."

Qui-Gon frowned, and Obi-Wan finally understood what had been going on. If the Sith had wanted to escape, he would have attacked Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan had no illusions about the outcome. He probably would have given in the end, because he didn't want to die just yet. Or maybe the Sith could have taken the short way, and jumped. He was probably skilled enough to stop his fall.

"This is not making sense", Qui-Gon finally said. "He is trained, and he looks the part, but he did not act like a Sith."

"Whatever", Rayden said. "We'll get him to the station and wait for him to wake up for processing. You can collect him there later. Though I warn you. If this one is underage, Social Services will put up one hell of a fight."

xxx

And again, Maul woke up, to an overwhelming feeling of wrongness this time. He tried reaching for his Force senses, but there was nothing, not even the background hum of the Living Force.

Slowly, he unrolled himself and sat. Someone had deposited him on a bed in a very small med-bay. There was some diagnostic equipment, and the deactivated droid was sitting in a corner.

There was a slight pressure on his throat, which turned out to be a thin metal band around his neck. Inhibitor collar. He'd heard of these.

Even if he made it out of this place, he would be absolutely helpless. His Master wouldn't be able to sense him, and if he found him anyway…. a quick execution by the Jedi was infinitely preferable. Also, the absence of the Master's cold, steely presence in Maul's mind was the best thing that ever happened to him. He would never have to watch his thoughts again.

The door hissed open, revealing a woman who was carrying two mugs of steaming liquid. She looked familiar... the cactus garden. She started when she realized he was awake.

"Hiya", she said. "We meet again, huh?"

He nodded. What, exactly, was going on here? Or was this just some hallucination? Because she wouldn't just walk over to him and offer him one of the mugs.

"It's herbal tea. It won't bite."

He nodded again, and took the thing. It was hot and smelled of some flower and honey.

"So. My name is Camy Denahry. Call me Camy. I'm from Social Services, and your appointed caseworker."

Tilting her head, she looked at him expectantly. She wanted a name, but he doubted 'Maul' would satisfy anyone's curiosity, so he didn't say anything, and tried the tea instead.

"I know you're not dumb, kiddo, but have it your way. Some of the Security guys will give you the legal spiel later. I just thought you might take this better if you woke up to a friendly face. In short, you're under arrest for manslaughter, and the evidence is pretty much airtight. No-one has a clue who you are, and the Jedi are out for your blood, especially after you attacked one of their Masters. Since the droid says you haven't finished growing yet, you're considered underage for the time being. So I'm the person they'll have to get all the signatures from. Any questions so far?"

He shook his head. Did it matter anyway? Either the Jedi or his Master would eventually get him. Damn the Force for tricking him like this. Damn his Master for insisting the Force didn't have a will of its own.

She sighed. "I'll go get the Inspector now, kiddo. Don't do anything stupid."

xxx

The Council had finally acknowledged the possible existence of a Sith when shown the lightsaber. It was an unusual design – double bladed – and the crystals inside sang angrily, as Obi-Wan had found out when having a look at it on the ride back to the Temple. Wielding this would need some skill.

So now they were going to collect the Sith, along with Master Windu, plus two knights Obi-Wan didn't know very well. All for one kid wearing a Force inhibitor. Obi-Wan felt rather embarrassed about their little parade as they followed Rayden to the holding cells.

They had met the Sith's case worker – how strange was that, that anyone thought they had to care for a Sith – and she'd extracted a promise from Master Windu that she would hear from them in two days at the latest about who the Sith was and whether he needed a legal guardian. She'd left, then, claiming she couldn't watch this.

Rayden palmed open the cell's door.

"Kiddo", he said. "Here's your Jedi welcome committee."

There was a wave of undiluted panic from inside before it was dampened down again. Finally, the Sith edged into view. He stopped and stared at them, panic rising anew; a black vortex Obi-Wan was reluctant to take a closer look at. Definitely not a good idea to turn up with so many people.

"Kiddo", Rayden repeated. "We've been over this. You don't give us grief, and we don't tie you up. So come on."

The Sith blinked. Obi-Wan knew some people just froze up when panicked, but he'd never seen anything like this. It was downright pathetic.

Rayden sighed explosively, projecting exasperation.

Master Windu shifted, clearly eager to just go in there and collect the Sith, but obviously as unsure about the outcome as Obi-Wan was. Frightened animals were unpredictable, and currently the Sith was acting very much like one.

_If you think you can get him out without risking a fight, you are welcome to try, Padawan_, Qui-Gon's mind voice said.

"Um", Obi-Wan answered. The Sith's eyes flickered and met his. Good. Obi-Wan centered himself and listened to the Force. He had to get this one to back off from a cliff. "Hey. I know it looks a bit like overkill from your position. Five against one, I mean."

The Sith tilted his head in curiosity. Not so much fear now.

"See it as some kind of honor. We really think you're worth all that attention."

That got him a disapproving look from Master Windu, but the Sith raised an eyebrow, or rather, one black arch on his forehead curved a little more, with a definite spark of amusement. Obi-Wan tried not to grin as the Sith finally moved and walked out of the cell.

* * *

So, what do you think? More? 


	3. 2: break my back for you no more

a/n: Thanks to the kind reviewers. Anyone interested in what Pain sounds like: www. myspace. com/ officialpain (delete the spaces)

* * *

Part 2: break my back for you no more

Maul had really thought he could do this. He was sure that letting the Padawan learner talking him out of his panic hadn't been planned, unless that dark skinned Master – Windu – was an excellent actor.

They'd taken Maul to a holding cell in the Temple's basement and had asked him some questions he couldn't answer, so he'd kept quiet. It had confused them, and they had left, with the promise that they would find out who he was anyway. He knew they were just dying to look inside his head, but some sense of Jedi honor kept them from it.

He felt a lot older than the supposed sixteen or seventeen. A lot older than that Padawan. On a purely intellectual level he had known that Jedi were to honor all life and wouldn't use excessive violence, but to actually see the Padawan getting away with insubordination unscathed was still a surprise. No Force lightning for him.

They didn't strike him as weak-willed, though. His Master had always accused them of being so, along with being too compassionate for their own good. Yet right now, they were being extremely devious, letting him stew. For two days, he hadn't seen anyone besides the guards outside his cell and a droid that delivered the food. Neither were very talkative.

Outside, the guard turned and stared at Maul for a moment. They couldn't have an idea what was going on in his mind except the thoughts on the surface. They wouldn't know why his mind refused to sleep in a situation like this. And even if they did, they wouldn't use it against him, would they?

Maul scratched the mark in his ear where the stud had been and continued his wait. No matter how much they knew or guessed, their tactic was extremely effective.

xxx

Obi-Wan stepped out of the elevator and strode along the hallway that led to the cells. The Council had decided it was a good idea to let Obi-Wan try and weasel some response out of the Sith. He had agreed, mostly because the Force didn't protest and he was curious.

After an extensive search, the Temple databank had finally matched a file to the genetic data, so their Sith had a name now. Neither the Sith's ID nor the bike's license had anything to do with it – the bike had led them to a large, recently abandoned apartment near Lake Park. Dead ends all around there.

"Hey", Obi-Wan said. "May I come in?"

The Sith, sitting cross-legged on a bed that didn't look very slept in, glowered at him. As far as Obi-Wan was able to tell, the Sith looked worse than before; what little had been white of his eyes was now as red as the outer rim of his irises.

Taking the non-answer as a yes, Obi-Wan nodded to the guard, who lifted the force field so Obi-Wan could enter. It came to life again behind him with an electric crackle. The Sith flinched at the sound, then stood up and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. If it wasn't so improbable, Obi-Wan would have said the Sith was actually grateful for a little company.

"Um. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Hopefor a return of the curtsey was obviously futile.

"We found out who you are."

The Sith quirked his eyebrow in response.

"Your name is Khameir Sarin. You were born on Iridonia, and you're going to be eighteen in four standard months." Which was older than Obi-Wan had expected, and shrank their age difference to a year and a half. "You were eligible for training here, but your parents refused."

The Sith closed his eyes and seemed to savor the information, with a distinct air of sadness. Then, he shrugged.

"Excuse me?"

The Sith opened his eyes again, staring levelly at Obi-Wan.

This game was getting on Obi-Wan's nerves, so he took a deep breath and hoped the Force would supply him with the right thing to say.

"Look. You're a Sith, so of course there is some information we want. But we don't exactly like hurting people, so we'd prefer you started talking. The Council might even make you some offer in return."

The Sith nodded, his face impassive. There was a torrent of thoughts and feelings behind it, but all remained somewhat unclear as they were considered and discarded.

"I have no idea", the Sith finally said. His voice was deep, extremely so, and very soft.

"Sorry", Obi-Wan said. Considering the Force, he decided that making a big deal of this was exactly the wrong thing to do. "What exactly are you referring to?"

"My name. I have no idea. My Master called me something else entirely."

"Oh", Obi-Wan said. "He wiped your memory."

The Sith exhaled sharply, and it was accompanied by a wave of bone-weariness in the Force. "He had no need to. He got me when I was very young."

"Oh", Obi-Wan said again. "Sorry." Because he had no idea what else to say. If this was true, it would mean Khameir Sarin had never been given a choice. He'd been handed over, or more likely, grabbed, and only now had found a way out. The Council would not like this. "So what did he call you?"

"Maul."

"I'll call you Khameir", Obi-Wan decided, and tried to hide his pity and horror.

Khameir shrugged.

"We should probably notify your parents."

"Don't."

"You're underage. Republic law says you need some kind of legal guardian."

"They wouldn't know what to do about the situation. Provided they want their basket case of a son back."

"Um. You're pretty coherent." It was somehow a relief that Khameir realized he wasn't quite normal.

Khameir snorted. "Call Camy if you have to. At least she does have some kind of insight into this."

Silence stretched, but oddly enough, it wasn't hostile. After a while it occurred to Obi-Wan that Khameir was actually drifting off.

"You didn't sleep much, did you?"

"No."

"Why? It's not like someone would attack you while you slept."

Khameir looked at the floor.

"You can't really believe that."

No answer. It probably meant that the topic was off limits. Anyway, a small knot of dread was forming in Obi-Wan's stomach as an answer to all the unpleasant feelings Khameir projected; fear, shame, pain. Obi-Wan honestly didn't want to think about the reasons for it.

"Would it help if I watched out for you?"

Abruptly, Khameir looked at him. Yellow eyes held his gaze, as if to determine what Obi-Wan's reasons were. It had to be insanely difficult, since Obi-Wan couldn't figure out why he would offer such a thing in the first place. He was feeling protective, that much he could discern. The Force wasn't protesting, so he was along for the ride.

Finally, Khameir blinked once, very slowly, accepting the offer. He would never say it out loud – it wasn't a very Sith-ly, or very manly, confession to make.

Only when Obi-Wan had debriefed the Council and was back to relief the current guard of his duty, Khameir curled up on the mattress. Obi-Wan settled on the floor and tried to make some sense of his feelings while in the background Khameir's mind finally quieted down and let him sleep.

xxx

So this was the revered Jedi council. Twelve beings who were alternately staring Maul down or eyeing Camy as if they wished she'd just leave. He knew that to them, she was complicating matters immensely – they never did well with outside influence, did they. Yet she'd chosen to ignore their hints and was giving him back-up.

The little green geezer in the middle tapped his walking stick on the floor once, as if calling the meeting to order. They had been talking via the Force, Maul realized… anything to get rid of that collar and to be able to defend himself again.

"Much discussion your case needed, young Sarin", the green alien said. "Somewhat disturbing your story is, if telling the truth you are."

Maul caught himself before agreeing mindlessly with a 'yes, Master'.

"Look into your mind we will have to."

It had been inevitable. They would look whether he allowed it or not.

"If you offer no resistance, and prove to be truthful, we have a choice for you", Master Windu continued. "Since you are, due to your training, too dangerous as a rogue Force-user, we will either make the inhibitor permanent, and let you go, or you may remain at the Temple and finish your training here."

Their offer could not be called one. He looked at Camy, who shrugged.

"Your call", she said. "If they let you out, you'll get a trial, and they'll convict you or decide to have you committed to the next loony bin." She had obviously decided he didn't need coddling, which meant she didn't doubt his mental faculties, and whatever pity she felt was not unloaded on him. He didn't want pity.

If he left the temple, she, that fat inspector and whatever therapist someone decided to sic on him would die a very slow and painful death, most likely at Maul's hand, because he wasn't strong enough to fight his Master, had never been and would never be. His death, too, would be slow and painful, for he had defied his Master, simply by walking into a trap that both he and Sidious had known was laid out.

If he fought the Council's mind probe, it would either leave him without sense or memory.

It was not an actual choice. He'd be their lapdog Sith if this was what it took – there were always ways out, and here, at least, they wouldn't involve dying. His Master had taught him well… if it was you or them, it would be them.

In the end, it all came together in a net of weaknesses being exploited – his inability to cope outside for information, their compassion for a safe haven where he could grow stronger. It was something only a Sith could truly appreciate.

"You may look, Masters."

Camy reached out as if to steady him, but he evaded her touch.

xxx

Obi-Wan paced in front of the door to the Council chamber, to his Master's raised eyebrows. He would have given a lot to be in there right now, and Qui-Gon seemed to feel equally responsible.

After some minutes, the door opened and the caseworker, Camy, slipped out.

"He agreed", she said, projecting apprehension.

"They won't hurt him", Qui-Gon said, radiating reassuring vibes shamelessly.

Somewhat relieved, Obi-Wan stopped his pacing. It would be most interesting to have a Sith-in-residence.

xxx

The other little green alien with a grammar problem told Maul to kneel and try a meditation.

_Show us your Master,_ Master Windu's voice echoed in his mind.

Twisted figure with his hood up, always; skin like dry old parchment. Eyes glowing yellow when angry. The Dark Lord of the Sith. Darth Sidious.

_Name._

No idea. Some politician, if the hints were worth anything. Maybe a Senator.

They didn't believe him. _Hints, what hints._ And they searched, the hacking jobs he'd done; why he'd been sent to remind Senator Undan that she had a family to look after. The few people he had seen interact with his Master, the elderly Twi'Lek who had taken care of the household chores until the Master had decided that Maul was becoming too attached to her and had made him kill her. Others, teachers, servants, who were likewise used and discarded as a training exercise.

_You did not enjoy that._

Difficult to say. Fear was power. Pain was power. But he had never looked forward to it, even after he had learned not to care. In the end, it was either them or Maul. The one exception came to mind, but he grabbed the thought and shoved it back.

_Why would you hide this…_

Revenge. It was revenge. It had felt good, but it had never helped.

_What happened?_ And they dug.

He grabbed the pain and wrapped it about him like a shroud. Don't go there.

_Very well._ They relented._ Show us what he taught you. How he did it._

Maul showed them.

_You only learned to hate him,_ they stated.

Maul gave a mental shrug. Who else? The Jedi? He'd done his best, but the training had obviously been faulty. Based on lies.

_Lies?_

The Jedi had never refused to train him.

Their motivation remained unclear, but they were not weak.

_We hope you will come to share our motives._

Maybe. Maul had never been meant to take over the Sith. Otherwise there would have been more lessons in diplomacy and a formal education to keep up the ruse. He'd realized that when the path had suddenly forked. Somewhere out there was a future that wasn't dictated by other people.

_You think more independently than we would have expected._

Maul was raised as a tool, to be used according to his talents until he outgrew the usefulness. Co-dependency would have been counterproductive.

They retreated, leaving him exhausted.

"Truthful you are", the green Master commented. "Discuss your further training tomorrow we will. Find a teacher for you we need to. Now, rest you shall."

"Yes, Master", Maul said, and climbed to his feet, much slower than he would have liked.

"We can remove the collar now", a female with an odd headdress commented, smiling at him.

He tugged at it. As good as that sounded… "I will have to die first."

"Excuse me?"

"My Ma- my former Master has to be convinced that I am dead. Otherwise, he might consider hunting me down. He might also kill everyone I talked to recently."

There was a brief silence as they discussed the issue via the Force.

"Arrange for it we will", the little green Master grinned and waggled his ears.


	4. 3: some salt in my wounds

a/n: Sorry for the delay – real life interfered in form of a cold.

* * *

Part 3: some salt in my wounds

"So", Obi-Wan said, hovering in the doorway as Khameir inspected the guest quarters assigned to him. "I figure you need some fresh clothes."

"It appears so." Khameir turned to look at him. The red in his eyes had receded somewhat.

"We could go and fetch some from supplies."

"Yes."

On their walk, Obi-Wan went into tour guide mode and explained whatever he knew about the area they were passing, and thus did a halfway decent job of distracting Khameir from the looks they were getting. The Temple had few black-clad, vividly tattooed visitors, but at least the news of a captured Sith had been kept safely under wraps. There was no telling how they'd react if they knew.

It looked like the quartermaster had her suspicions, she eyed the collar pointedly, but didn't comment.

"Size", she snapped, after Obi-Wan had explained the situation.

Khameir shrugged.

"Medium", she said, and turned to her dataset.

"Wait", Khameir said. He visibly shrank under her gaze, then Obi-Wan felt him working up the courage to continue. "No white, or cream, please."

She tssk-ed. "I'll have to see." She consulted the computer. "Hmm. Gray sound okay?"

"Yes."

"You using a pillow or a head rest?"

"Head- no, wait." Khameir paused and looked like his eyes would cross any second. "I'd like a pillow." Obviously that master of his had not cared for creature comforts.

"Tear-proof casing it is, then", she said, sounding as amused as Obi-Wan was.

They waited as she sent her order to the storage area and retreated into her office.

"No one would stare if you wore a Padawan uniform", Obi-Wan pointed out.

"I am not a Jedi."

"But you didn't like the stares you got."

"No."

Obi-Wan waited. Maybe more than the barely essential information would come forth, but it didn't. "You could try with the full reason", he finally prompted.

Khameir raised an eyebrow and held up a palm, which was black, expect for a pale ring that looked like a bite mark.. "Contrast", he said. "And I don't like earth tones."

"Mmh", Obi-Wan agreed. So, their new charge was just a little vain. "Did your Master make you get the tattoos?" No one in their right mind would have their palms tattooed, would they. And it would just fit to make Khameir even more of an outcast.

"No. They were my idea."

"Why?"

Khameir crossed his arms and evaded his eyes.

"Forget I asked", Obi-Wan said.

xxx

"How are you doing, Padawan?", Qui-Gon asked as Obi-Wan returned to their quarters.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Fine, Master. Why?"

"The Council just put you in charge of the care for a very disturbed person. While I don't doubt you will fulfill that task admirably, I still am concerned about how it affects you."

In other words, Qui-Gon Jinn was worried.

"Khameir _is_ behaving strangely", Obi-Wan conceded. "I believe most of it is due to the inhibitor collar. Anyone would be jumpy with one." He plopped down on the couch next to Qui-Gon. "He really doesn't know how to carry on a conversation, though. And he actually asked for that tattoo."

"As I said, he is in need of some healing." Qui-Gon paused for a moment. "It would be very unfortunate if you believed you had to provide it. Or if you perceived yourself as a failure because of that."

Sighing, Obi-Wan leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "I know I'm not a therapist, Master. But right now he's following me around like a lost puppy. I can't not feel responsible." The prospect was a little frightening. "I need to meditate."

"You will have sit upright for that", Qui-Gon said, amusedly.

With another sigh, Obi-Wan went in search for a nice spot on the floor.

xxx

Maul stared at the ceiling. The Council had told him to rest, so he had decided to try out the bed, but he wouldn't be able to sleep even if he wanted to. Too many things needed to be thought through… if Darth Sidious would believe the Council's ruse, what kind of training they had in mind for him… and then there were the memories.

It wasn't exactly Kenobi's fault that they had crept up from somewhere deep in Maul's mind, but the padawan kept picking at the emerging tendrils with an uncanny precision. Any mind healer would be able to grab them and drag them up fully, so Maul hoped the Jedi wouldn't bother with one. He didn't particularly want to remember.

Sometime later, there was a knock on the door. Kenobi had promised to pick him up for the evening meal.

"Hey", the padawan said, and then proceeded to gaze at Maul's bare feet. They were tattooed, too, although Maul failed to see why that surprised Kenobi.

"Isn't it considered rude to stare?", he asked. No lightning came forth, but it was so easy to forget that.

"Sorry, Khameir. I've just never seen anyone with tattoos that extensive. It's… a lot of people will wonder how far down they go."

Yes. Of course they would. It was the one thing Maul hadn't considered when designing them. He didn't answer the unspoken question and collected his boots and the black neckerchief the quartermaster had thoughtfully added to his new outfit.

xxx

Dinner had been… uncomfortable. Kenobi had made him sit with some of his friends in the mess hall. They had been curious, but Kenobi and he had been told to keep quiet about his origins for the time being, and there weren't many other topics for conversation, so Maul had found himself listening, which had suited him fine, but seemed to have at least the human girl, Siri, on edge.

Maul suspected he should get used to it, because one day everyone here would know what he was. Still, it was better than being dead.

Now they were sitting in the quarters Kenobi shared with his Master, waiting for the broadcast of a press conference on the holonet. Currently, the news were on, but Maul preferred to look out of the apartment's window. It looked west, and the orange glow of the setting sun outlined the Coruscant skyline. Gray clouds hung low above the buildings like stranded starships… an image from the end of days.

Next to him, Kenobi moved. Maul stopped drumming his fingers on the armrest.

"Not interested in politics?", Kenobi asked finally.

"I'm just admiring the view."

"Hmm." The padawan stared for a minute. "One shouldn't get used to it, I suppose, but I did anyway."

Maul shrugged. Getting used to things was the only way to ever get things done.

"So you're not addicted to the net like other people."

There was an insinuation in that statement Maul didn't like. "There are more interesting things one can do in their free time."

It took Kenobi a while to digest the information. "You have a hobby?"

"Not quite." A hobby was an activity people took up to pass the time or to produce pretty or useful things… it didn't quite cover Maul's pressing need to ban images from his mind on canvas. "I paint."

"Cool", Kenobi said. "I'm completely useless when it comes to art."

"I have no idea if one could call my attempts art."

"I'm surely the wrong person to ask. You could get colors and stuff from supplies, you know."

Maul hummed an assent.

The press conference was disappointing in its banality. The fat human inspector blinked at the cameras, and gave a short speech about finding the culprit, who had, alas, been killed in an escape attempt. Since the arrested person had been underage, they wouldn't disclose any more information. Then he proceeded to thank the Jedi profusely.

Thus the Sith apprentice died. It was quite a relief.

xxx

The next morning brought an end to Maul's Force-blindness and a headache of major proportions, as he had dreaded. Some blood vessel in his left temple had decided now that the stress was over, it could swell to ten times of its original size and make his life hell. Using his hate and anger had never worked well on it, mostly because he had a hard time deciding who he should be angry at. He had mentioned that to his Master once, who had told him it was a hereditary disease called migraine and to try harder. It hadn't worked, but he'd found that it was possible to ignore the pain if he only was distracted enough.

Maul rubbed his temple and concentrated on the quiz the Council had presented him with to determine what he needed to learn. Most of it was easy, history, basic astrophysics and navigation, foreign languages, the Republic's constitution and current political climate. They also asked him for a two hundred word comment on the inscription above the door to the Jedi Council chamber. He knew what it said, of course, one had to know their enemy after all… but he didn't understand why someone would strive for such a life. Agonizing over it a little, he decided to be honest. They wouldn't kill him for that, no matter how much they disliked his opinions.

He handed the datapad back to Master Windu, who took it and told him to be back in two hours.

xxx

"They're giving you a place for yourself?", Obi-Wan asked as they discussed the Council's decision over lunch. He refrained from expressing his slight jealousy.

Khameir shrugged. It looked more deliberate now that he was rid of the collar, and whatever emotions he had were safely hidden behind a wall. That wall was impressive… there was no trace of darkness in Khameir's aura at all. If he didn't look so demonic, one would never peg him as a Sith, or ex-Sith.

"I would have assumed they wanted you under constant supervision."

"It wouldn't help much, I believe. As Master Yoda commented: 'hard to see the Dark Side is'. They will never be able to read me unless I allow them in."

Obi-Wan swallowed. Khameir hadn't meant that as a threat. It was merely a statement of fact.

"You could just up and leave now", he realized.

"Yes."

"So why are you still here?"

Khameir rubbed his left temple. "Think, Kenobi. Even if I wasn't a prisoner here and wouldn't have the entire Order as well as my old Master on my heels if I fled, I'd stand no chance. One weird looking teenager, alone, with no money or identification. My only hope would be hiring on with some syndicate in Coco town, and maybe work my way up from there."

"It would be right up the alley your training took you." Obi-Wan wouldn't complain about being called 'Kenobi'. He kind of liked it, actually.

"Yes." Khameir stopped for a moment, rubbing his temple again. "I know. I just think that it wouldn't mean anything."

"Excuse me?"

"Having people crawl at your feet because they are afraid. It's not really a challenge…"

Obi-Wan nodded and decided to let it drop. Some things were just too disturbing to think about.

xxx

"Sit", Master Windu said and indicated a chair in front of his desk. Maul did as told.

"Master Billaba agreed to teach you Jedi philosophy."

One of those masters who had been invited to watch Maul being quizzed by the Council and as he had given them an idea what his lightstaff could be used for. A lady in an orange robe, if he remembered correctly. Maul nodded his agreement. It would work.

"Also, we would like you to teach your fighting technique."

"I have never taught before."

"We are aware of that and would find you suitable students."

"I will try."

Master Windu smirked, as if remembering a joke, then leaned back and watched Maul over steepled fingers. "There is also another issue. Generally, all twelve year olds here get a sexual education class."

Maul blinked. "I am aware of the mechanics."

"Good. I think you know that we do not encourage any form of attachment. We wouldn't like to see anyone hurt because you ignored that part of our code."

Maul rubbed his left temple, his headache had just increased ten-fold. They were just worried about their padawans; he couldn't begrudge them that, even if he didn't understand their reasoning. They weren't trying to dig up the memories on purpose. "I understand. It will not be a problem."

The rest of the conversation passed in a blur – Maul remembered being grilled about the place near Lake Park, but couldn't begin to care – then Maul went back to his newly assigned quarters, where he crawled into his bed, pulled the covers over his head and let himself drift off.

xxx

Someone was pounding on the door. Maul considered to wait them out, but they didn't stop, so he finally crawled out of bed and went to answer. The sky that was visible from his window was the typical orange glow of a Coruscant night.

Maul's wake-up call was being delivered by Kenobi, who looked downright relieved when he finally opened the door.

"You missed dinner", the padawan said. "And you look like – well, not good."

"I won't faint at profanities. And I have a headache."

"Uh. That was why you kept rubbing your head? Why didn't you go to the healers?"

"Pain killers don't work." He had tried.

"What about Force healing?"

Maul shrugged. "Doesn't work either."

Kenobi chewed his lower lip for a moment. "You mean Dark Side Force healing."

"Yes." Maul rolled his eyes.

"What about a Light Side approach?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if I …", Kenobi reached out to him. Maul took a step backwards and fell into a defensive crouch. He forced himself to breathe as the padawan looked at him as if he'd just grown a second head.

"Sorry. I just thought that I could take care of it. I'd have to touch you for it, though."

Stupid. Maul could take out Kenobi and most knights here without breaking into a sweat, so he shouldn't react like this. It was his body that wouldn't get used to the situation, even if there was a chance to get rid of the headache before tomorrow morning.

"Come in", he said.

Kenobi inspected the apartment for a moment, something Maul had been too preoccupied to do yet. "It's probably better to sit down."

So they sat, on the couch, which was beige and quite soft, Kenobi facing Maul and chewing his lip again.

"I won't bite", Maul finally said. Now that he knew what was coming, there was no reason to freak, at all. So what if no one had touched him in years? Still it felt like there were millions of small insects crawling under his scalp and down his neck, and his stomach went into a knot in anticipation.

Kenobi nodded and placed his fingertips on Maul's temples. They were warm and dry, resting there without any pressure. The tingling feeling of Force healing joined the insects and slowly nudged his veins back into behaving. Maul closed his eyes and hoped Kenobi wouldn't be finished too soon.

"Better now?"

"Yes", Maul said, and opened his eyes again to find Kenobi peering at him curiously. The warmth of the fingertips vanished, and Maul forced himself not to react in any way.

"Good." Kenobi grinned. "You should consult the healers, though. Maybe there is something you could take to prevent the attacks."

Maul shrugged. They weren't all that frequent to warrant stuffing himself with some drug.

"There's some things I need to talk to you about. First, um, news have gotten out. Everyone knows you're here by the Council's invitation, but that won't stop anyone staring…"

"Yes." It had been inevitable. Maul had survived worse.

"And second, Qui-Gon and I will be leaving for a mission tomorrow. Some trouble over an election on Neimodia."

"You don't seem pleased."

Kenobi shrugged. "I think my Master asked for it to get me away from you a little. And it's probably going to be negotiations, which means I'll be useless."

Maul didn't know what to say. He had no idea what was going on in Qui-Gon Jinn's mind, and wouldn't try to find out.

"Why would you be useless?"

"Not enough experience", Kenobi sighed. "Anyway, it just bugs me that he thinks you're a bad influence on me."

"I could be", Maul pointed out. "You are questioning your Master's decision."

Kenobi grinned. "Yes. I do that frequently. So I guess I already am corrupted."

Maul shrugged, he wasn't quite sure if he had meant his comment to be funny.


	5. 4: someone who doesn't quite fit

Part 4: someone who doesn't quite fit

Not ready to face the world on an empty stomach, Maul filed through his kitchen for some breakfast and came up with caf and some bread, which could have been worse. He made a journey to the commissary where he stocked up on the caf – he had never been a morning person – and then went to meet Master Depa Billaba.

They took up residence in a small chamber that was obviously meant as a space for meditating. He went to sit on the floor, facing her, and found he quite liked the arrangement.

"I am having trouble to decide how to address you", she said.

Maul thought for a while. He had no official title, and he didn't want to be a 'young Sarin'. "I'll listen to Maul or Khameir, Master Billaba", he finally decided.

"Khameir then." She smiled. "It must be difficult for you to be faced with a new identity like that."

"It could be worse", Maul said. "At least it is an identity that was not made up."

For a moment she looked like she wanted to press the issue, but didn't. "Good. Now, I believe I am supposed to teach you about our philosophy. Is there anything else you would like to learn?"

"Healing", he said. "Light Side Force healing."

She raised her eyebrows. "Healing needs a certain talent", she started, and seemed to lay out a small speech in her mind. "Those with that talent get a different education than those who lack it. Of course, every Force user should be able to heal smaller injuries, and you were asking about that. Is the Dark Side not strong enough to aid you in this?"

"It depends", Maul said, ignoring the jibe. "It is very efficient when you were hurt by someone else, or if it was your own stupidity that did it. But what if someone else is hurt, and there isn't someone to hate for it?"

"That, I believe, would require compassion." She smiled again. "The need to stop other people's suffering."

Maul blinked. He had encountered that word often enough, but he wasn't quite sure if he knew what it felt like. It had always been a choice between his survival or that of others. There had never been a time to actually stop and think about what he was doing, on a high from their fear. " I will not be able to learn, then."

Master Billaba tilted her head. "Are you so sure? I was told the Council staged your demise."

"I asked for it, Master." His mind was free of any presence of his former Master. He'd been too distracted to relish that yesterday.

"Why did you ask?"

"He would have found me and killed me. And everyone else."

"Who is everyone else?"

"That inspector. Camy. That caseworker from Social Services", he explained.

She smiled, as if her point had been proven. "Do you like her?"

"She was nice." Camy was part of their plan, he knew that. She would file an official complaint against the Jedi order for killing one of her charges, and look mournful for a while.

"You would not like to see her suffer, would you?"

"No." But if she did, what would keep him from drawing strength from it?

"Why?"

Maul shrugged. There was a myriad of reasons, and there wasn't one. "I met her son", he summarized.

Master Billaba nodded with a faraway look. "I think you know what I was trying to make you see. There is potential for good and evil in every person." The Force swirled around her. "I also think we've had enough philosophy for today. I would like to try a meditation exercise now."

xxx

Being the center of negative attention for a crowd of Jedi was not quite as satisfying as Darth Sidious had wanted Maul to believe. Even though they were not encouraged to have strong emotions, their combined suspicion and loathing were a sour taste in the air, but it wasn't making him much more powerful. He strengthened his shields and went to find a place from which he could see the doors.

Much to his surprise, the Mon Calamari girl, Bant, joined him.

"So, Khameir, wasn't it? They say you're a Sith."

"I was", he corrected.

"You left. But… it's said that once you fall to the Dark, you can never turn back."

"I merely left my order. I did not leave the Dark behind."

She seemed to chew on the fact that she was talking to a Dark Force user.

"Has anyone ever left the Sith before?"

Maul shrugged. "A few, but never for very long. I believe I'm holding the survival record."

She gave him a small, tight smile, as if to acknowledge that to him, it actually held some humor. Darth Sidious's sure-fire plan to raise the perfect Sith had obviously been faulty.

"The Council is trying to turn you back to the Light, aren't they?", she finally asked.

"Yes. I just finished my first lesson with Master Billaba", he added, so Bant had something she could tie her next statement to, and wouldn't have to think much for a new question.

It looked like he was finally getting the hang of having a conversation.

xxx

When Maul returned to his quarters from the first lesson he had ever given, there was a parcel sitting in front of his door.

Interesting. He poked it with his Force senses, but there were no warnings, so he picked it up to open it inside.

It turned out to be the remote control for the Bloodfin and an envelope of actual paper, saying 'Khameir' in some curly, female handwriting. He opened it and two items fell out. They were studs for his ear, one his own steel one, the other some sort of black ceramic with red and yellow swirls. It looked like the cloud patterns of a hurricane.

The letter accompanying them was from Camy.

'Kiddo', it said, 'I'm sorry I can't get this to you in person, but I understand you need to keep a very low profile for now. I'm doing my best to be suitably testy at work. The Security people are finally satisfied that neither the control nor your earring are explosive, and don't contain any homing device. The other thingy is something I found and couldn't help buying. I have no idea if it's considered appropriate to give some guy jewelry, so please don't think I'm sweet on you. The vendor said the pattern was some sort of good luck charm, and one can never have enough of that. So, take care, Camy.'

This was the biggest amount of handwriting anyone had ever wasted on Maul. He couldn't quite figure out why she would do something like that, or give him an earring, for that matter. Other than the fact that she was, indeed, nice, and actually cared about him.

He stared at the gift for a long time before he decided to try it on.

xxx

Obi-Wan suppressed a yawn. The task had turned out to be even more boring than expected – they were to supervise the recounting of several million votes, because the loser, who also happened to be the person in power, refused to believe the obvious.

Therefore, he watched a dozen Neimodians and a few humans sit around a big table and count votes, using the Force to see if they were trying to tamper with the election.

After an hour or so, a green Twi'Lek came in and placed a big tray of refreshments on the table. She was uneasy, staying away from everyone as far as possible. Hm. He hadn't thought someone here would have the gall to have a Jedi served by a slave. Figuring that the bunch of earnest individuals he was to oversee would not try and fake anything, he followed her out.

"Excuse me", he said.

She turned and looked at him in surprise. "Yes? Is something not to your liking?"

"I just noticed that you seemed uncomfortable. If you need some help…"

She frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Well, I obviously was wrong. It's just that one hears so many stories of Twi'Leks being mistreated…"

"I work in the cantina."

"But you haven't always, have you?"

Her gaze flickered with old pain. "No."

He smiled at her encouragingly. "I'm glad to see my suspicions were unfounded."

She shrugged. "Was there something else?", she asked, her tone businesslike.

"No, thank you."

He watched her as she walked away. Somehow, she reminded him of Khameir, from the answers on a need-to-know basis to her obvious dislike of bodily contact.

"Uh shit", he said, when he finally made the connection.

xxx

It was now the fifth morning that Maul was arguing with Master Billaba about the Jedi Code.

So far they had disagreed if it was possible to actually achieve the goal of being a mere instrument of the Light Side, and about the worth of a choice to leave their emotions behind when they hadn't even felt most of them.

"Have any of yours ever just left?", he asked, curious, after she'd told him about that practice to send the unworthy to the AgriCorps.

"What do you mean?"

"If any Jedi ever decided to up and leave, like I did."

She smiled. "We sometimes lose Padawans that way. Most of them come back within a few months."

"Why?"

"I suppose they realize that the Force wants them to work for the good, and not toward their own selfish pleasure."

"It's possible to work for the greater good even if you're not a Jedi. The only difference is that you would have to seek your tasks on your own", Maul mused. "Maybe they are lonely."

She tilted her head. "It might be a part of their reason to return."

"Then it's not a free choice they are making."

"That is ludicrous." It was not the first time she said that; it seemed almost reflexive by now. She didn't even bother with her scandalized face anymore.

"You're raising children that are unable to function out there. I know you can feel someone's pain at losing a loved one, but you will never understand the anger that often comes with it. You will never really be able to relate to them, or know what makes them tick." And they always depended on someone to tell them what the next mission was.

"There is so much wrong with that statement", she said "But it's not a good subject for a discussion, I'm afraid. You have never seen a Jedi in the field, and until then, I will never be able to convince you."

Maul shrugged. Another stalemate. "You never thought of leaving, did you?"

"No." She seemed surprised at the observation. "How do you know?"

"You strike me as a person who has found her place in life."

She smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

xxx

Sometime later in the day, a series of images began forming in Maul's mind, along with that motto they had written above the doors to the Council chamber.

_There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force._

It was a statement of impossibility, because as long as a sentient being was alive, they had emotions. But in some cases, the Jedi were coming near. In Master Jinn's expression of absolute trust in the Force when he had faced Maul. In Master Yoda's eyes, that just seemed to see through everything. In Master Billaba's smile when she was meditating.

Yes. It was time for another trip down to supplies, now that he had something that was worth being let out of his head.

xxx

Maul stared at his reflection and compared it to his attempt of a self-portrait. Nope. He crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder. It bounced off an armrest and went to join his first two experiments on the floor.

Things certainly would be easier if he had any practice in drawing persons, but that had never occurred to him before. Before, he'd done mostly imaginary landscapes or cities. He knew his Master had kept one of a scavenger bird resting on a statue with a war-torn Senate building in the background.

So, he just had to do it again, and again if necessary. But first, he needed to find some decent music.

Two hours later he'd finally managed to create something that looked vaguely like himself, and realized that he had missed the evening meal. And nobody would punish him for it. He considered skipping it altogether, just because. But if he got up just in time to make it to his lessons, breakfast was still half a day away, so he went to get some caf and some food. His Master had tried to wean him off caf several times, but it hadn't worked… it was the one matter in which his Master had finally given, because it didn't seem to have as much of a bad effect on Maul as it had on humans.

He was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. It didn't feel like Kenobi, and everyone else would just have commed him. He set the mug aside and opened the door with a thought, keeping his distance. A dark skinned Zabrak blinked at him, or maybe at the music, which was rather loud. Maul switched it off with a thought.

"You're the Sith everyone keeps talking about", the stranger said, sounding amazed.

"Dark Force user", Maul corrected. "And you are?"

"Forgive my rudeness. I'm Agen Kolar. We appear to be neighbors."

"People call me Khameir. I have never seen you around before."

"I was on an extended mission, so I just wanted to say hello." And had gotten a bit of a surprise, although he seemed to be taking it well, very much unlike the neighbor from the right. That one, a tall human female, had taken one look down at him, twitched her nose and proceeded to ignore him.

So what did one do upon meeting a friendly stranger?

"Caf?", he offered.

xxx

There was a message from Master Billaba waiting for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan when they returned from their extremely boring mission, although, of course, Qui-Gon would have never admitted to being bored, and Obi-Wan held back any complaints as well.

They debriefed with Master Windu – the mission was hardly worthy of the full Council's attention – and then let Master Billaba know they were back. Obi-Wan wasn't surprised that she wanted some advice on Khameir.

She came over in the evening, bearing some sort of pastries, so they sat around the kitchen table, sharing them and some tea. It was oddly homely, and for a brief moment Obi-Wan wondered if having a family felt like this.

"You've tried to teach Khameir some of our philosophy?", he asked.

"Try being the operative word." She smiled. "He is the most difficult student I've ever had. I have no idea if he argues just because he likes the challenge or if he actually disagrees."

"Have you asked him?" Khameir wouldn't lie. He would refuse to answer or give out only a part of the truth, but he would not lie.

"Not yet. I will have to, because the Council awaits a report on our progress the day after tomorrow."

"You are having trouble to decide what to tell them?", Qui-Gon interjected. "Does it matter if he is being argumentative or obstinate?"

She made a small face. "I know Khameir is neither easy to get along with nor instantly likeable." That statement was plain wrong. Yet she just helped rationalizing Qui-Gon's uncharacteristic response to a pathetic life form, probably to placate him. "However, he is also extremely intelligent, and seems to be willing to learn. I talked to his students, and they say he makes a relatively good teacher. Yet, no matter how much I tell him, he will never take that as a prompt to leave the Dark Side. He will either learn by example, or he won't. I believe the Council will be displeased with that finding."

"You cannot lie to them", Obi-Wan said, "but maybe they will not take it as badly as you suspect. He was raised to hate us, after all, and to thrive off pain and fear." He stopped for a moment. "I'm sure he argues because he disagrees. Most people raised outside the Temple would disagree."

She gave him an appraising look. "I certainly hope the Council will see with equal clarity. However, there is another matter."

Obi-Wan nodded for her to go on. He had suspected so.

"As you know, we confiscated that speeder bike, and as far as I gather, the technology department is drooling over it. Also, someone asked if they could use it for driving lessons."

xxx

A tired looking Khameir opened the door when Obi-Wan knocked the next morning.

"Hey, Khameir", Obi-Wan said. "I just wanted to say I'm back, and –"

"You are here about the Bloodfin", Khameir finished for him and rolled his eyes. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be out in a minute."

"I woke you up, didn't I?", he said, feeling suddenly guilty. He had to stop making a habit of that. "Sorry."

Khameir shrugged, and let him in. Obi-Wan watched the retreating back for a minute. Despite looking heavy set, Khameir moved silently, elegantly avoiding to step on the clutter he had collected on the floor.

Most of it were sheets of paper, no, sketches, piled on every available surface. He took some to free a place on the couch and had a look, and found Master Billaba staring back at him, an amused look on her face, as if she were humoring the watcher. Obi-Wan blinked, it was so… real; he could feel her good-natured acquiescence to an unusual request, and somehow, Khameir's respect was also leaking through. There were more of Master Billaba, close-ups and some of her meditating, from various angles.

Obi-Wan started on the next pile, which were less interesting. Several empty bottles, a mug and some odd contraption that looked like a nightmarish bracelet.

"I was studying the effect multiple light sources have", Khameir said, making Obi-Wan jump. He didn't stop to explain, though, but trudged on to the kitchen, and only returned after Obi-Wan had finished going through one more pile of various portraits; some Zabrak, Bant, and one of Master Yoda.

Khameir was holding a mug that smelled like it had to contain the strongest caf this side of the core. Obi-Wan's taste buds recoiled in horror.

"How are you doing?", Obi-Wan asked. "It can't have been easy after the news got out."

Khameir shrugged. "Nobody's dead yet. And since no initiates from the crèche are missing, I can't be accused of having eaten one."

Obi-Wan grinned and shook his head. He should have known he wouldn't get a straight answer. "Good. And you're right, I'm here about the… Bloodfin. What happened?"

"I was asked to disable its security so someone could use it for driving lessons. I refused."

"Why?"

Khameir took a sip from his caf. "First, it's mine. I built it. Second, any beginner who tried to ride it would end up in a wall. It's… temperamental. I told them that."

"And?"

"Jedi are not allowed property like that, aren't you. They didn't get it. Some technician of yours actually proposed to do something to the controls so it'd be easier to ride." For a moment, Obi-Wan could feel the anger that notion inspired in Khameir.

"So they approached Master Billaba", Obi-Wan closed the gap. "She said she's inclined to take your side in the matter, but apparently whoever set their eyes on the bike is a bit of a busybody and might complain to the Council."

"I know she'd rather I gave in. But I fail to see why they think the matter is open for discussion at all. It's my bike."

Obi-Wan rubbed the bridge of his nose. Attachments of any kind were discouraged by the Jedi, so of course others might not understand Khameir's refusal. On the other hand, Khameir didn't own anything but the clothes he'd had on his back the day he arrived, the saber and that speeder bike. "This is stupid", he concluded. Not to mention that pettiness like this was rather unbecoming of Jedi.

"I am inclined to agree."

"I'd say you wait them out. If they complain, Master Yoda's most likely reaction is a lecture on greed for them."

Khameir nodded in agreement and finished his caf.

"Why don't you sign them?", Obi-Wan asked, remembering a thought from earlier.

"Excuse me?"

"The sketches. Usually artists sign their work."

"If one of these made it signed out of the Temple and my Master found it, the results would be unpleasant."

"Hmm." Khameir was a master of understatement.

xxx

Since Master Billaba had given up on teaching Maul for the time being, he had some free time on his hands, so he had agreed to join Kenobi for some sparring. It turned out that he could not quite wipe the floor with the padawan, although he came close more often than not. Fighting a Jedi was most definitely more challenging than destroying droids. He stayed while Kenobi and Master Jinn went through some lightsaber drill together, only they called it kata here, and sketched, although Master Jinn had looked at him oddly at the request.

When they were finished, Kenobi plopped down on the bench next to Maul, so close their knees were touching. Maul took a deep breath; this had to be an accident.

"Let me see?", Kenobi asked, so Maul handed over the finished pieces while trying to ignore the warmth arising from the contact.

The padawan filed through the sheets, looking impressed. "Whew. I wish I had that much talent at something."

Maul didn't know what to say. It was customary to thank someone for a compliment, but it had not quite been a compliment. He got the feeling that Kenobi believed he was not living up to expectations.

"Maybe you just haven't found it yet", he finally ventured.

Kenobi looked at him and blinked. "You think so?"

"If my talent lay with, say, plants, instead of painting, I would not have found out about it."

Kenobi smiled. "Maybe I should volunteer for some gardening then." He sounded grateful.

Maul shrugged. He was rather sure that Kenobi's talents did not include a green thumb.

xxx

Master Windu was sitting in his chair wearing his patented inscrutable expression while peering at Maul over the also customary steepled fingers. At least Maul didn't have to face the entire Council about this.

"Master Billaba has given us a rather interesting report", Master Windu said. "It appears that you do not agree with most of our views."

"I never promised I would, Master", Maul pointed out. He had merely agreed to 'finish his training here', not to become a Jedi.

Master Windu smiled. "Not the entire Council is of that opinion."

Maul blinked. This was not making sense. "Surely it is more honest to voice my doubts than to just nod along to please you." He had groveled enough at someone's feet for this life.

The smile on the other side grew wider. "I, too, prefer that approach. There is an arrangement I have to offer, since we won't make a Jedi of you for a while."

Maul leaned forward.

"You will continue to receive lessons by Master Billaba; the frequency remaining at your and her discretion. You will also continue to teach, and if you are interested in any other assignment, you may always ask for one. We will not expect or pressure you to turn back to the Light in the near future, but we ask you to keep the arguing over our Code with anyone besides Master Billaba to a minimum. Once we are satisfied that you are trustworthy, you also may leave the Temple for shorter periods."

In other words, Maul's life would not change much on the outside, but his status went from prisoner to some kind of ally, for lack of a better word. The bike had not even been mentioned, which boded well.

"I agree", he said.


	6. 5: was I walking in my sleep

AN: So, here's the biggest chunk so far. There will be four chapters after this.

About the teeth: I refuse to believe they are an accident. In this case, they are a bit of 'decorative' surgery that hasn't happened yet.

* * *

Part 5: was I walking in my sleep

The Jedi, it seemed, were not used to dirty fighting. Even after several days, Kenobi looked surprised when Maul used an opening in any way possible, be it for a kick or for getting the lightstaff's handle into the padawan's face.

Right now, Kenobi was nursing his split lip with a look of indignation on his face.

"You need to watch out for the hilt", Maul said and squatted down next to him. Kenobi glowered briefly at him, as if he'd expected something else. "If you used your anger at me, it would heal faster", Maul continued.

That got him a look of utter disbelief. Ah, well. Jedi morals. "I thought so." Yet Maul didn't just want to wait until Kenobi managed to stop bleeding into his tunic's sleeve. Maybe it was time for an experiment. "Will you let me help you?"

Kenobi nodded, so Maul reached out, slowly. He wasn't at all sure he could do this. It was all about compassion. About knowing what it felt like and needing to stop someone else's pain. Maybe it would be enough to want Kenobi to stop being angry at him.

Maul's fingertips connected with a slightly damp and stubbly upper lip. Curious feeling that. For a moment he wondered what it would be like to actually touch hair, then took a deep breath and willed burst veins to stop bleeding and pain receptors to be still. When a trickle of Force energy started to flow, Kenobi shot Maul a surprised look. Yes. This one definitely had to be whole again.

After long moments, Maul had done everything he could do, and removed his hand from Kenobi's face.

"Thanks", Kenobi said, tentatively running a finger over the scab.

"You still might have to see a healer about it."

"I think I will manage."

They both had had worse, it seemed.

"Why are you always fighting dirty?", Kenobi asked after a while.

"Is there another way? I was trained to fight a war, and, as the saying goes…" All was fair in love and war.

"Mh-mh", Kenobi agreed. So curious neither of them actually said it out loud.

xxx

That thrice damned horn was itching. Maul had expected it to fall off weeks ago, but obviously the singe from Master Jinn's saber had not been enough to do it in. He poked it a little, and it went with the movement, but didn't come loose.

"Khameir, that's disgusting", Kenobi said. "I can't concentrate if you keep doing that."

As they were currently playing dejarik, that was a valiant objection.

"I'm not doing it on purpose."

"Hmm. Aren't you afraid it will come off?"

"That was the idea, Kenobi. They grow back."

"So why don't you just pluck it out?"

Maul winced. That was an experience he did not wish to repeat. "I will if you want to redecorate."

Kenobi nodded. "Just stop picking at it, please."

For the next hour Maul did his best, but still lost because of that distracting itch. Only when Maul was leaving, the horn finally hit the floor with a small plop.

"Now that's what I'd call anticlimactic", Kenobi said and collected it. "It could have at least waited to fall down somewhere where you'd get poked by it."

"I was under the illusion the Jedi encouraged compassion", Maul said.

Kenobi grinned at him, and Maul felt a tug on the corners of his mouth. He was smiling, he realized. What an odd sensation.

"So, what do we do with it?", Kenobi asked.

Maul shrugged. "I don't care." It was only a horn. People wouldn't keep their old hairs or fingernail clippings either. "Put it in the trash. Or on your master's seat, if you're so keen to see someone poked."

Kenobi stared at it for a while, looking a little mischievous. "I'm too old to pull pranks, alas. Are you sure you don't want to keep it?"

"Yes."

"Well, then. Night, Khameir."

xxx

Obi-Wan couldn't quite bring himself to throw the horn away. It had quickly warmed to his touch, and was smooth. He put it on the bedside table, unsure what to do with it, and mulling over why he wanted to keep it. Maybe because it was a reminder that his Sith was actually able to smile.

That night, he had a very interesting dream starring Khameir.

He felt vaguely guilty about it, because it was Khameir, and he'd been abused and so it just didn't feel right to make him the object of one's fantasies, but Obi-Wan figured it would pass. They were just dreams, after all, mostly of girls and the occasional guy he met on missions, but there had been one featuring Qui-Gon, too, some time ago, and he'd been thoroughly disturbed in the morning. It hadn't returned, so there was no reason at all to have a bad conscience about dreaming of Khameir.

However, a similar dream returned the next night, and the night after that, so Obi-Wan found himself immensely grateful that there was a mission coming up before Khameir could notice something was off.

xxx

"Ooh, wow", Camy said. "That's some talent you got, kiddo. I bet there's people out there who'd pay a fortune for something like that." She tilted her head. "That's the best publicity for the Jedi order I've ever come across, too."

Maul shrugged. The three paintings weren't that good, but it was somehow satisfying to have someone be so vocal about them. Jedi weren't supposed to gush like that – although Kenobi would have done so anyway, but he was on an extended mission – so neither Maul's subjects nor anyone else had.

"Yes, they are good. But if you want some professional criticism, I know a guy who owns an art gallery."

"I wouldn't want anyone to waste time…", Maul objected, although the offer did please him. The things might get verbally torn apart, which they probably deserved, but maybe there would be something helpful along with it.

"I'd like to take pictures and show them to Ronya. Or you could take some and send them to me via the net."

"I'll have to borrow a camera", Maul said. It was odd to have so many persons see his creations.

"You do that."

xxx

Obi-Wan eyed the freighter incredulously. It was called Millennium Falcon, and it made you wonder which millennium, exactly, was meant by this. Surely not the current.

Somehow, when Qui-Gon had said he'd found a secure transport off Darvin IV, Obi-Wan had had something different in mind.

"C'mon, mate", the pilot said. He was a tall, extremely gangly human named Troy Chapandra. "I'm supposed to lift off in ten."

"Are you sure she will?"

Qui-Gon exuded a slight rebuke, while Chapandra just shrugged.

"Fastest heap of junk in the galaxy, mate."

Indeed, the lifting off and the jump into hyperspace went rather smoothly. Satisfied that what remained of the slaving ring wasn't on their heels, Obi-Wan decided to take a nap.

He woke up to a very odd noise the engines were making – something between a sputter and a whine. The ship shuddered once, violently, nearly throwing him off the bunk. He figured that they'd dropped out of hyperspace, as he had quietly feared the whole time.

Chapandra stuck his head into the cabin.

"Don't worry, mate. She does that. I'll have it fixed in no time."

Just then, an explosion rocked the ship, and Chapandra's face fell.

"Shit. You a good shot?"

"Hmm. We need a plan."

"Exactly", Qui-Gon interjected, appearing behind Chapandra. "I think we disturbed some pirates…"

They made Chapandra clamber back into the cockpit and broadcast a signal of surrender. He even held the ship steady while the pirates maneuvered into an entering position and docked. Then he did what any sensible pilot would do in such a situation and hid.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had split up, taking the cockpit and cargo hold respectively, hoping to pick them off one by one – there were five of them, if the Force deigned to let them sense everything correctly. Ever since the day Khameir had taken the stun dart, Obi-Wan harbored a slight distrust in these feelings.

He ducked deeper behind the heap of rolled up antique carpets, smelling dust, decay and some remnants of expensive perfumes and spices.

A being neared in light, hesitant steps, pausing in the doorway, then taking another couple of strides, and reaching out to have a look at the cargo.

"Smuggler ship", a female voice said, presumably to a comlink. "We should consider to ask the pilot to join us."

The answer wasn't audible, but she made some humming noises while venturing deeper into the room. Obi-Wan waited for her, a Mon-Calamari, to pass him, then snuck up on her, grabbed her and knocked her out with the hilt of his lightsaber. She went to her knees in a small sigh.

Five seconds later, someone came storming down the corridor, and somewhere else the sound of blaster fire flared up and stopped quickly. Three of five were out for the count.

Obi-Wan waited for the fourth, a dark skinned human male, because the corridor allowed little room for a lightsaber. He parried a few erratic shots before deflecting one to the pirate's shoulder, where it went right through and left the blaster arm disabled. The gun clattered to the ground. The pirate looked at it dumbly for a second, then spun around and ran, surprisingly quick for someone injured.

Deciding for a quick solution, Obi-Wan Force-pushed the pirate into stumbling. He landed headlong, unable to catch his fall, and lay there, groaning.

"Yield", Obi-Wan demanded.

The other wriggled around and glared at Obi-Wan for a second. "I yield."

He was lying, of course. When Obi-Wan walked over to him, the pirate made a desperate lunge, which earned him a kick to his injured shoulder. He gasped and curled up, so Obi-Wan was free to apply the saber hilt once more.

Feeling with the Force for the rest, he realized that Qui-Gon had entered the other ship, where the last pirate had waited to ensure a quick get-away. The aura dimmed when that one went down as well.

As if on cue, Chapandra came out of whatever hole he had decided to hide in.

"Whoa, mate", he said. "That looks pretty neat. No blood at all."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

"I know what you're thinking, mate. I never was part of something like this before. But you should've seen the Falcon when I got her."

Deciding to let it drop, Obi-Wan did not point out that buying a stolen ship was taking part indeed, and went to look for Qui-Gon.

They found him in the other ship's cockpit. It was much roomier than the Falcon's.

"Well, thanks mates", Chapandra said after a pause. "You guys saved my life."

"We're Jedi. It's our job to help the innocents", Obi-Wan said. Chapandra had the decency to blush.

"One of them ships is yours", the pilot declared after a while.

"Excuse me?", Qui-Gon asked.

"You stormed this ship, so by spacer lore, it's yours. I'm simply suggesting a trade. You get the Falcon, I get this one."

"The Falcon's hyperdrive isn't functioning", Obi-Wan pointed out, slightly amused at how excited the pilot was by the pirates' ship.

"You give me five minutes, and it will be. And I admit, she needs a good looking over, and she is a bitch. But she's fast – we're almost near Thyferra by now. She's small, agile and inconspicuous. This one here needs a crew of two or better three, while the Falcon can be operated by one person."

"We'll think about it", Qui-Gon offered in a non-committal tone. "We'll have to take the pirates to Thyferra, so we will have enough time to test both ships."

_You're just confirming his opinion that all Jedi are arrogant pricks_, Obi-Wan send. Sometimes Qui-Gon enjoyed to see people squirm way too much.

_I know_, Qui-Gon sent back, along with a satisfied grin. _He needs to be put in his place a little._

"Sure", Chapandra said, pretending not to be nervous. "Why don't we take this one, Master Jinn, and you take the Falcon, mate."

xxx

A figure dressed in black awaited the Falcon's arrival at the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan ignored Khameir's new attire while he landed the craft, although it was difficult to not get lost in that stomach-clenching feeling of anticipation he had.

Khameir looked even better than Obi-Wan's memory had made him. Black suited him, made him look more sophisticated, and he'd dug out the neckerchief, emphasizing his perfectly sculpted head.

To avoid any awkward words, Obi-Wan drew Khameir into the quick handshake-hug that was currently favored among the Coruscant youths. As expected, Khameir reacted a little stiffly, yet it felt extremely good, and would be fodder for eventual fantasies later.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself", Khameir said, retreating and raising a questioning eyebrow. Did he suspect?

"I brought work", Obi-Wan said, gesturing to the Falcon. Chapandra had been right – the Falcon had been a true pleasure to fly, and he'd volunteered himself and Khameir for the repairs.

"Do I look like a cleaning unit?"

"I was thinking of something more up your alley. The hyperdrive is faulty."

"Ah." Khameir straightened his tunic demonstratively. "A task worthy of a Sith."

Obi-Wan felt his mouth open in disbelief. Khameir took a long hard look at him, then broke out into a grin. "You're too gullible."

"Maybe so." Obi-Wan shrugged, not liking to admit the comment had caught him off-guard.

"So when do we start on her?" Khameir was flexing his hands.

"Tomorrow. You mentioned some news?"

Adopting a serious face, Khameir cleared his throat. "I'm rich."

"Indeed."

"One thousand dataries. I sold the paintings."

"The ones you had almost finished when I left?" Obi-Wan asked, and felt extremely disappointed. "I never got to see them."

Khameir shot him an odd look and shrugged. "Someone who wishes to remain anonymous donated them to your tourist entrance. We can go see them later."

"I'd like that. But first, you know, debriefing and sleep."

"Sure. Just comm me once you're awake."

xxx

Maul stared out of the window, waiting for Kenobi to finally get his bearings and call. For once, Maul didn't have the slightest inclination to paint. Instead, he felt like he needed to talk to someone, rare as that was, and the best candidate for that was Kenobi. Bant wouldn't get him, Agen Kolar was excellent company when it came to computers and weapons, but didn't have much else in common with Maul, and Master Billaba would start with some psychological approach. Camy would have been the second best choice, but she wasn't that readily available.

Another half an hour crept by, and then something changed… like an almost imperceptible flicker and turning up of the lights. Kenobi would comm any minute now.

xxx

"Wow", Kenobi said, looking awed. He had brought his Master, too, who seemed incredibly surprised; disbelief that someone as corrupted as Maul could create something this true.

"I need to catch up on my messages", Master Jinn said after a while.

Kenobi nodded in acknowledgement, which got him a frown, but no rebuke. Finally, the master retreated, his footfalls echoing through the empty tourist area.

"You finally found a way to sign these things", Kenobi noted after a thorough inspection.

"Hmm." Maul wasn't sure if it had been a good choice.

Kenobi followed the small black spiral with a finger. "Like that earring you wear."

"Yes." Maul hadn't thought Kenobi would notice something like that.

"I like it. Did you know a spiral is the simplest form a labyrinth can take? Some cultures use them as a way to meditate. It's a symbol for the search for their center."

"Trust a Jedi to have some trivia ready for every occasion", Maul said. He hadn't thought it through that much, but now that he knew about them, he liked the connotations.

"Happy to oblige", Kenobi quipped. "You really should have gotten more than one thousand credits."

"Thanks. But it's not a bad start for a newcomer like me. It's actually three times more than what I should have hoped for."

"Mm. Must feel good to be independent like that."

"I hate being indebted."

"That too. But you could actually make a living outside the Temple now."

"So could you."

Kenobi shrugged. "I suppose so."

Maul merely rolled his eyes. Despite of his image as a model padawan, Kenobi had some severe self esteem issues. Sometimes Maul really wanted to press for details, but refrained from it, because he didn't want to be pressed either.

"So who did you take on the shopping spree?"

Kenobi sounded casual, but there was the merest hint that maybe he would have liked to come along. Strange.

"No one. I'm not allowed out yet."

"Thank all the little gods for mail order, huh? Looks good, by the way."

Maul shrugged. "You once wanted me to settle for a padawan uniform."

"Consider me reformed." An uneasy grin spread on Kenobi's face, as if he had said something wrong.

Complimenting another man on his clothes wasn't a very male thing to do. Not like this, anyway. The number of motives for such a comment was limited, and Maul felt slightly queasy. He took a step back but refused to run.

After long minutes, Kenobi shifted from one foot to another. "Anyway, see you tomorrow", he said, turned and strode off without looking back.

xxx

"Padawan", Qui-Gon said when Obi-Wan made it back to their quarters. Obi-Wan had wandered one of the gardens and obsessed a little about how Khameir had taken his compliment. He had gotten the distinct feeling of extreme confusion and fear for a moment. Stupid. Stupid to destroy a friendship like that. And now he was in for a lecture from Qui-Gon.

"Good evening, Master."

"Have a seat."

Obi-Wan obediently folded up into the armchair opposite of Qui-Gon.

"You showed me some serious disrespect earlier." Disappointment was oozing off Qui-Gon, making Obi-Wan feel incredibly young. In theory, he was too old to make mistakes like that.

"I realized. I'm sorry, Master. It won't happen again."

"I surely do hope so. To brush up your manners a little, I have volunteered you as a tourist guide for the next tenday."

Aargh. Well, it could be worse, like cleaning public freshers, or babysitting in the crèche.

"Of course, Master. When am I supposed to begin?"

"Tomorrow. One more thing, Padawan."

"Yes, Master?"

Qui-Gon leaned back, doing his best impression of Master Windu. "I'm aware that forbidding you to meet Khameir Sarin will achieve the complete opposite."

What?

"I have the feeling that he's leading you astray, Padawan."

"The Force never gave me a warning, Master", Obi-Wan objected. "Sometimes it actually seems to be encouraging me. And, well, leaving Khameir isolated is probably the best way to confirm his prejudice against us."

"You're probably right…", Qui-Gon trailed off and stared into space for a moment. "But I don't like it."

"I'm committed to becoming a knight", Obi-Wan said. "I wouldn't risk that for anything."

There was a slight eddy in the Force, as if it had raised an eyebrow, but he ignored it.

xxx

Maul didn't bother to get into bed that night. Even if he managed to fall asleep, he'd only have nightmares, so he stayed up, sat on the floor and stared out of the window, again.

Kenobi was attracted to him. Suddenly, a lot of small gestures and odd looks made sense. What didn't make sense was that Kenobi hadn't done anything about it. Instead, Kenobi had demonstrated something like a bad conscience about his slip. Maybe because he was a Jedi – Maul remembered Master Windu's lecture well enough. If Kenobi took his calling seriously, nothing would ever come of it. Thus, there was no need to be afraid of anything… and really, it would mean to give up a capable sparring partner and the promise of working on the Falcon and… his best friend, in short.

Maul rubbed his right temple. Kenobi's hair had brushed the spot, and only now it felt like some imprint had been left, like a smudge of water color drying there, a stain that begged to be washed off. He really hated Kenobi for throwing everything off balance and having to sort out between his repulsion and his need for some decent company. That need had been his downfall before.

Maul got up and started pacing. In the end, he was weak, and always would be, only he wasn't eleven anymore, and Kenobi was bound to his Jedi code. Maybe Maul would be able to ignore what had happened tonight, if Kenobi didn't bring it up anymore. Yes.

He redirected his way into the kitchen, where he made some more caf. If he didn't sleep, he might as well work.

xxx

Obi-Wan waited for Khameir at their usual place in the mess hall. He'd sent a short message explaining about his punishment, and now he hoped Khameir would at least be forgiving enough to hear him out.

To his utter relief, Khameir entered, and, after collecting a tray, came striding towards him. That was new… although Obi-Wan had realized it yesterday. Somewhere along the line, Khameir had given up the contemplative tempo of someone who was always following two steps behind his dignified Master and had started to walk like someone who knew where he was going.

"Hey, Kenobi", Khameir said and plopped down opposite of Obi-Wan. "How was your first morning as a tour guide?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Could have been worse", which had surprised him, actually.

"You did a good job back when I arrived here."

"Thanks. They admired your paintings. Someone asked if there were prints available."

Khameir looked rather pleased.

"She also needled me with questions about the architecture. You'd never believe what else I got asked today."

"But you are dying to tell me. So go on before you burst an artery."

Grinning, Obi-Wan began to present an assortment of questions – from living arrangements to what the ribbons in his braid meant. He didn't mention the teenage girl who had inquired about a Jedi's sex life on a dare.

All in all, the conversation wasn't as awkward as Obi-Wan had feared, as if yesterday had simply not happened.

"I was thinking we could start on the Falcon tonight", he said when he was finished.

"So was I", Khameir said.

Whew. Apparently, Obi-Wan had indeed been forgiven.

xxx

Maul approached the Falcon reluctantly. Kenobi was waiting at the ramp, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking rather impatient.

They didn't speak much while they ran a full system check, and Maul tried to find any hidden data that might interfere with the hyperdrive.

"There's nothing. The software isn't the problem", he concluded and leaned back in the pilot's seat.

"I would have felt cheated if it was", Kenobi said, seemingly satisfied.

"Hmm."

"Khameir…", Kenobi began. "About yesterday…"

Maul glared at him. The Jedi were so damn predictable. "It's forgotten. Don't bring it up again."

With a serious look on his face, Kenobi nodded. "Understood."

"It's too late to have a look on the engine today. We'll start dismantling it tomorrow", Maul said and disconnected the datapad.

"Well, then… same time tomorrow?"

Maul extracted himself from the seat. "Sure. Night, Kenobi."

"Night, Khameir."

xxx

Days passed. Khameir and Obi-Wan still met for at least one meal a day, sparring and work on the engine, but somehow, Obi-Wan felt strangely lonely. He'd gone somewhere where Khameir couldn't follow, and shouldn't try even if he wanted to. Yoda's lecture on attachments always loomed at the back of Obi-Wan's mind.

"Love leads to fear, fear leads to anger…", and disappointed love oftentimes turned straight into hate. If he had any sense at all, he'd keep away from Khameir until it faded, but it was too damn hard.

Also, the one month mission to Darvin IV hadn't done anything to stifle the desire, it had merely made him miss Khameir… and since he'd managed to spook Khameir only a few hours after his return, he was still missing him. It was a low tugging in his stomach that came over him in the most improbable and inconvenient situations.

Sometimes he thought his pining had to show somewhere on his person, yet nobody seemed to realize things were off.

Therefore, he and Khameir were playing pretend, and they both knew it. Khameir had reverted to his old, monosyllabic ways, and Obi-Wan had tired of having one-sided conversations soon after, yet neither seemed to be able to make a clean break.

xxx

The engine was nearly dismantled, but there seemed to be nothing wrong with it. Maul squatted and squinted at the remaining circuits. They were remarkably sooty, but seemed intact and correctly connected. This ship was mocking him. He shuffled a little to the right. The fault had to be there somewhere. Yes. Something there was glinting silver where it shouldn't.

"Hang on…", he said and rolled up his sleeves. Carefully, he reached into the depths and pulled the offending wire free. "Here you go", he said and held the piece out for Kenobi to see. "Something ate the insulation, so the vibrations caused a short circuit. That explains why it worked again once you prodded it hard enough. I guess whatever tried to live in there was fried."

Kenobi didn't answer. He seemed utterly fascinated with Maul's hand, and unease slithered under his skin.

"What is it?"

Kenobi reached out to grab Maul's wrist, and Maul had to force himself to stay still. He was neither eleven nor defenseless this time. His pulse wouldn't listen, it picked up pace, prepared for a fight.

Though Kenobi had to be aware of Maul's discomfort, he didn't let go.

"That's some deep scars", Kenobi said, sounding surprised.

"And?"

"And with bacta, there's no need for scars like that."

With a fast twisting motion, Maul tried to yank his hand free, but Kenobi held on. Through a haze of panic, Maul felt Kenobi trace the small ridges.

"Shush. I won't hurt you." Abruptly, Kenobi let his shields go and flooded Maul with concern and curiosity. He continued his soft caresses as Maul fought to breathe evenly. No reason to panic; this was, first, and foremost, a friend.

"Sorry", Kenobi said, his eyes wide and earnest, but still he didn't let go. "I'd like to know what happened to your wrist, Khameir."

Maul wished he could look somewhere else, but he'd never before realized Kenobi's eyes were so blue and could carry so much compulsion. He gave the Force a poke, no, there wasn't any mind control on Kenobi's part; it was something else that made Maul want to answer.

"Kitchen knife", he finally explained.

"Excuse me?" When it came to things like that, Kenobi was remarkably dense.

"That's an aborted suicide attempt." He'd never had the guts to actually go through with it. "I kept picking at the scabs. He was furious when he found out." There'd been a thumbprint coded lock on most of the cupboards in the kitchen from then on.

"Oh", Kenobi said. His fingertips ghosted over the scars and further up Maul's arm. Suddenly the insects in Maul's neck were back, and he didn't want them to go away.

"Why?"

Maul shrugged. "A reminder that there always was a way out."

Frowning, Kenobi let go. The insects sighed and left reluctantly.

"I'm sorry. I know I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for you."

"Lack of imagination can be a blessing."

"I suppose." A crooked grin showed on Kenobi's face. "Whatever imagined it could survive in a hyperdrive definitely had too much of it."

"Hmm. We'll have to check for other damage."

xxx

Maul didn't remember his dreams, but he did wake up with an erection. He stared at the dark ceiling for a moment. Abstractly, he knew waking up in such a condition was customary for males, yet it had never happened to him before. He'd thought that part of himself had died. Slowly, he let his hands creep down his body, exploring the unexpected hardness.

He spent himself imagining Obi-Wan Kenobi's hands all over him.

Later, he watched the room growing brighter as the sun rose over the neighboring building. It was as if a floodgate had been pushed open in his mind, and unfamiliar sensations and feelings were spilling out, threatening to drown him. In the chaos, Kenobi was the only thing that promised stability, and no matter what Maul had promised Master Windu, he needed Kenobi closer.

Now, it was all a question of how far Kenobi was willing to go.


	7. 6: something to make you think less

To carmarthen: You were right. The bad egg was removed.

* * *

Part 6: think of something to make you think less 

To Obi-Wan, it was as if a curse had been broken. Khameir seemed to have instantly forgiven the intrusion and the touch Obi-Wan had forced on him and returned to be the easy company he had been since they met. They spent a few agreeable evenings fixing and fine tuning the Falcon's hyperdrive, but a mission came up before they could take her for a test ride.

"They'd probably want a master to chaperone us", Khameir remarked, standing in the doorway, hands buried in his pant pockets.

"Of course." Obi-Wan really didn't want to go. He had the vague feeling something might come up with Khameir and he'd be needed. "So…"

Khameir tilted his head. "It's a representative mission, Kenobi, not your execution."

Obi-Wan grinned. "I suppose. See you, then."

The hands were removed from their pockets, but Khameir seemed unsure as to what to do with them. "Don't die of boredom." But he didn't turn around immediately.

Something inside Obi-Wan snapped, and he drew Khameir into a hug. This time, it felt less awkward, and he allowed himself a moment to breathe in deeply. Khameir smelled of dry earth and warm stone, like a desert shortly after sunset.

It was over altogether too quickly. Obi-Wan shivered from the sudden loss of warmth as he watched Khameir walking off along the hallway.

xxx

Master Billaba smiled as Maul approached her in the gardens.

"Good morning, Khameir. I'm surprised to see you awake at this hour."

"Good morning, Master", he said. He'd woken up early, after an uneasy night, and had sought her out on a whim. They rarely met for philosophy lessons anymore. "I trust your last mission went well."

"It did, thank you, although it did try my patience. Walk with me."

She turned and they ambled along the path for a minute. "How have you been?"

"I can't complain, Master. My classes are doing well, and the work on the Falcon is finished."

She smiled knowingly. "Something is up, otherwise you would not have come to me."

"I'm puzzling about something Master Windu said. He said the Order disapproved of attachments of any sort."

She raised her eyebrows waiting for him to continue –they'd discussed that attachments were understood to be possessive and thus encouraged fear of loss.

"I got a rather unmistakable offer", he spun a tale carefully. "The person didn't think the suggestion was contradicting the Jedi teachings."

"There is indeed no rule that requires chastity. Provided the involved parties are consenting adults and not in a student-teacher relationship, sex is perfectly acceptable. However, that kind of intimacy always might impair someone's judgment, which is why most Jedi prefer to avoid it. All in all, it usually creates more tension than it releases."

"Which means I should refuse for their sake."

"That would be my advice. Unless, of course, I misjudged you badly, and you wish to cause us some distress."

Maul shrugged. "Not particularly. But in this case, the attraction is not mutual."

"We cannot make you follow our rules in this. But, please consider that you're not a consenting adult just yet."

He hadn't even thought about it from that angle. "With all due respect, I don't feel much like a teenager."

She gave him an appraising look. "You shouldered more responsibilities than other children your age. You killed and repented, and made a plea for outside help. From what I gathered, you were punished before you committed the crimes to warrant it. And yet you seem remarkably stable. Others would have broken from the strain."

"I know. He once said he selected a Zabrak because no human would stand it. And he is far too prejudiced to take a non-humanoid into his care."

"Humans tend to be more xenophobic than other races." She smiled thinly. "They're the most widely spread race in the galaxy, yet it is them who harbor the most resentment. Sometimes I believe it's due to the fact that they have no known planet of origin."

"One needs roots before one can grow", he repeated some nearly forgotten wisdom.

"Exactly." She stopped and turned to look at him. "You might consider searching for your own roots. That Sith left you ignorant of your origins for a good reason. I think he believed it would make you feel restless, and as if you had some kind of shortcoming you had to overcome."

Maul shrugged. "It is something I do share with the Jedi initiates."

"That is untrue. They are called by the names their parents gave them, they know about their planet and culture of origin. Any Jedi is free to adopt that culture if they so choose. Any Jedi is free to access information about their family, and to contact them once they're considered mature enough."

They walked in silence for a while.

"Padawan Kenobi and I would like to take the Falcon for a test ride once he's back, Master Billaba", Maul said eventually.

"Preferably without a Master breathing down your necks, I'd wager." She had that knowing smile on her face again.

"Yes", he admitted.

"I'll take it to the Council. Your conduct here has been flawless, I don't see why they shouldn't allow you a little more freedom."

"Thank you, Master Billaba", he said, and gave a small bow.

xxx

Maul had forgotten how boring life could be without Kenobi. Since both his inspiration and his dreams were altogether too fascinated with memories of the padawan, he spent hours on his dataset, trying to hack into Agen Kolar's and the Temple's system. The knight had caught on after Maul had left a text message on his desktop, and proceeded to hack right back.

He'd told Bant about their little game when she complained about having to learn some computer language, and she'd just shaken her head and said 'boys'.

The Temple's security proved to be a little more of a challenge. It took him the better part of four nights, and when he finally was in, he didn't know what to do. After staring at the screen for a while, he entered his own name into the search engine.

Then, he stared at the dozen or so results the computer had found. Suddenly, he felt cold and his limbs became incredibly heavy. This was what sadness felt like. The first time he'd recognized that particular emotion had been when he'd been let out of his quarters for the first time, for driving lessons. He'd never seen so many people in one place before, and they all were so very different from him. So damn content.

Stupid. He shook his head and hit the first link. It was a small notice with instructions for the press release after Maul's faked death.

The second link provided his file. It turned out that his name wasn't quite Khameir Sarin, it was what Kenobi had shortened it to. According to a thoughtful file keeper, his name translated roughly as Khameir, son of Marek, of the yellow-eye branch of the Sarin clan. His father, in turn, was another Khameir's son, and Maul's mother was called Satiya. They'd apparently refused to let him be trained because he was the first son. He had two older sisters, Tamra and Siyou, both with Midichlorian counts too low to be interesting to the Jedi.

Suddenly, two small girls ghosted across his mind, shrieking about some toy or other. The smaller one hid in a room with an old fashioned door, made of wood and being suspended on hinges, and the older hammered her fists against it, screaming profanities. A tall, familiar person came to intervene, but then the memory ended.

Maybe he should go and see them one day, but what was he supposed to say to any of them? The lost son returning, damaged beyond repair, and, well, gay. He'd caught himself ogling a surprising number of males in the past days. While there weren't any unwanted physical reactions, he still found it unsettling how easily he could be distracted by a nice backside.

Shaking it off, he sent the admin a message and left the system.

xxx

Someone should teach Master Windu a new expression. Every time Maul saw him, he was frowning.

"Sit", Master Windu said curtly.

Maul had no idea what had happened to make the man so angry. Not wanting to displease the master further, Maul obeyed.

"Master Morkart told me you circumvented our archive's security."

"I did." Maybe he shouldn't have left that message after all.

"Why?"

Maul shrugged. "I was bored, Master Windu."

"Indeed. Are you aware that your actions are more than suspicious? Especially since we weren't able to find your master yet."

Closing his eyes, Maul nodded. "I didn't stop to think that far ahead, Master."

Seemingly tired, Master Windu massaged the bridge of his nose. "We've been forgetting you're only seventeen. Nevertheless, the Council agrees that you've proven to be untrustworthy. We wish for another mind probe, otherwise your net access will be denied and you'll be confined to the Temple."

"I see", Maul said, trying to remain calm. Back when he'd arrived here, he didn't have anything to lose but his life. Now he had to decide between losing his freedom and losing Kenobi, and he wasn't inclined to give up either. There had to be a third way. Anger was cursing through his veins like electricity, yet the sudden surge of energy didn't do anything to help him find a solution.

"If there is nothing else, Master", he asked, meeting Master Windu's speculative gaze.

"No. We will await your decision."

Maul nodded and left, not caring about being polite.

xxx

Obi-Wan had hoped Khameir would meet them in the hangar again, but instead Master Windu stood there, scowling. It was a direct echo of Obi-Wan's feeling that something had happened in his absence.

He waited through the necessary small talk, trying to hide his impatience.

"I'd like to leave you to your rest", Master Windu finally said, "but I'm afraid we need your help, Padawan Kenobi."

Inwardly, Obi-Wan sighed. Most Jedi seemed remarkably incompetent when it came to Khameir Sarin. As far as he knew, only himself and three other people were talking to Khameir on a regular basis. Siri and Garen were gradually warming up to him, as well, but otherwise he was either ignored or feared.

"What happened, Master Windu?"

"Your friend hacked into our database."

Obi-Wan listened to the rest attentively, and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Despite his appearance as a well trained warrior, Khameir was a first a painter and second a computer whiz.

"He's holed up into his quarters and refuses to leave them", Master Windu concluded.

"That is a rather childish reaction", Qui-Gon observed.

"I'm not sure", Obi-Wan said. "Do you know if he's talked to anyone?"

"I don't know. As I said, he can't access the holonet, so his options are limited."

"I gather you didn't ask anyone else about this."

Master Windu's eyes narrowed at the implied criticism. "Master Billaba is on a mission."

And obviously, they hadn't even bothered to contact Camy Denahry, Bant or Knight Kolar, if they even knew they could. It was rather sad.

"I'll go find out why he's hiding, then. If you'll excuse me, Masters…"

xxx

When he was five meters from Khameir's place, the door opened and loud music hit Obi-Wan like a punch to his sternum. It was anger and desperation and loneliness packed into fast, precise beats, a hypnotic bass line and growled vocals. It was everything a Jedi was supposed to shun and everything Khameir had learned to draw strength from.

Only seconds later, Khameir appeared in the doorway. He blinked twice, then smiled, hesitantly.

"Hey", Obi-Wan said, and stopped.

The answer wasn't audible with the background din; Khameir frowned, and the volume lowered considerably. "You're back", he observed.

"Eh. Yes. For about ten minutes. You know their default mechanism when you're concerned…"

Khameir snorted amusedly. "Come on in."

The place was even more of a mess than usual. A half finished abstract painting sat in the middle, swirls of indecision in muted colors, several others leaned against free spaces on the wall.

Out of habit, Obi-Wan shifted some sketches aside and lowered himself on the couch. Khameir remained standing, head held high, a black, proud silhouette against the evening sky. He was even more attractive when angry.

"Master Windu told me his version of events. What happened?"

"I fucked up. I was bored, so I had a look at my file, then left the administrator a message about flaws in their security. They would never have known if I hadn't done that."

"But you did. And then?"

"I received an invitation from Master Windu. He offered me a choice", Khameir spat the word. "I don't see how my doing them a favor would warrant another mind probe."

"You weren't opposed to one when you arrived here."

Khameir turned his back to Obi-Wan, as if suddenly uncomfortable. "Things have changed since then."

Of course. The Council would inevitably stumble over a number of facts they wouldn't like. Obi-Wan rose and walked over to Khameir. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Khameir's waist from behind and rested his chin on a black-clad shoulder. The fabric was surprisingly soft, while underneath there was warm, solid muscle. Khameir exhaled loudly and leaned into the touch.

It felt perfect.

"They'd hand both of us over to the mind healers", Obi-Wan said.

"At the very least."

They would be separated. But Obi-Wan refused to give up Khameir just because he felt an attraction he would never act on. He hadn't worked to be everything Qui-Gon wanted in a padawan just to throw it all away now.

"What is the Force saying?", he asked after a while.

A shrug made his teeth clatter. "Patience. I hate when it does that."

"I agree. I'll meditate on this… we'll just have to state your point convincingly."

"If anyone can, it's you."

"Thanks." Obi-Wan knew he was grinning like an idiot, both from the trust Khameir placed in him and from the sheer joy that someone finally acknowledged that he had a talent for something. "You should recommence your classes. Master Windu thinks you're sulking."

xxx

Maul had hoped they would only have to face Master Windu, but apparently the Council was thinking he would agree and had summoned him.

Everyone except Master Yoda seemed surprised that Kenobi was there as well.

"Invited you were not, Padawan Kenobi."

"With all due respect, Master Yoda, I was asked to mediate in this conflict. I will not neglect my duty."

Wiggling his ears as if greatly pleased by the answer, Master Yoda leaned back.

"In other words, need for mediating there is. Why have you requested an audience, young Sarin?"

Every gaze was resting on him now, and there were ripples in the Force like far away tittering.

Maul swallowed. They'd spent an hour on the wording yesterday. "I ask this Council to rethink their ruling on my supposed transgression."

The tittering stopped for a moment, then resumed, louder than before.

"Supposed transgression?" Master Windu echoed.

"Yes, Masters. By Republic law, it is not forbidden to access any system, provided no sensitive data is viewed and the administrator is notified of the access pathway immediately."

Kenobi had found that highly interesting tidbit.

"Are you accusing us of injustice?", some other Master thundered, a Cerean Maul hadn't bothered to learn the name of.

Kenobi shot Maul a worried look and moved as if he wanted to offer a calming touch. A quick glance stopped him, there was no need for it. Maul collected his anger about him and forged polite puzzlement. He needed to keep each and every one of them in the dark.

"I merely ask you to consider all the facts, Masters."

Master Yoda rapped his walking stick on the floor. "Keep to the subject of this discussion we will. Implying you are that you have neither viewed nor copied classified data, young Sarin."

"I merely accessed my own record, Master."

"Done so you could have on request to this Council", the little green alien scolded.

"I am aware of that, Master. However, the hacking I do is more about the challenge than about information."

Master Yoda waggled his ears again. "Still to be proven it needs that being truthful you are about your exploits in the archive."

"You may always access my dataset."

Master Windu shifted. "How do we know you didn't change the records?"

"It's not that easy", Maul said. "Any expert would find out."

"Then send an expert we will", Master Yoda said and blinked once, shrewdly. "Delighted Master Morkart will be. If satisfied she is with your conduct, closed the case shall be."

Disquiet in the Force erupted anew. Master Yoda listened with narrowed eyes, then interrupted with his walking stick.

"Innocent until proven guilty. Do well some of us might to remember this principle of justice." The ancient little Master hefted himself from his seat and walked to stand in front of Kenobi. "Not much need for mediating there was, hmm, Padawan Kenobi?"

"No, Master."

"Yet done well with the preparation you have."

"Thank you, Master", Kenobi said.

Master Yoda tilted his head and looked Maul and Kenobi up and down once. It felt like he knew everything. Finally, he gave a nod and a secretive little smile, obviously pleased with whatever the Force had told him.

Outside, they hovered for a moment.

"Kenobi…"

"Hm?"

"Thanks. And…", Maul tapped his left temple. "Could you?"

"Sure." Kenobi grinned and brushed his thumb over Maul's forehead. The by now familiar prickle of Force healing followed it and faded. "You should be good now."

"Thank you."

Kenobi shrugged. "Any time."


	8. 7: can I smile with your gun to my head

Part 7: can I smile with your gun to my head

Master Morkart was a one meter short, wraith-like female of a species Maul had never seen before. She took Maul's few files and messages apart with ease, all the while imbibing vast amounts of caf and chatting about various encryption methods. He didn't mind being more or less subtly grilled about his expertise, since he found her a rather likeable nerd.

"Nothing seems to be amiss", she finally said. "I'll make some changes to the firewall and will notify you once I'm done. It would be a great favor if you could test them."

"I'd be honored to, Master Morkart."

She clicked her tongue. "Good. You're free to roam the holonet once again. Here is your new user name and password." She produced a small slip of paper and deposited it carefully on his desk. "Also, I'm to tell you that Master Yoda wishes you to contact him."

Without further ado, she left him to clean up the caf stains. He found it admirable how she had avoided spilling any on the keyboard.

Only then did he allow himself to comm. Master Yoda.

xxx

Obi-Wan had thought long and hard about what he should give Khameir for his coming of age, since the traditional night on the town was out of the question. He'd finally remembered that Khameir had mentioned that he'd like to get his earlobe pierced, so Obi-Wan had asked around a little. The cheapest method required two ice cubes, disinfectant, a needle and an earring.

The last proved to be the most difficult to procure, since he didn't want any questions asked.

He took Master Morkart's visit as a distraction for Khameir and wandered the bustling Unity Arch market, feeling ridiculously out of place among all those colorful personalities, even though he'd taken care to wear civilian clothes. He found a small stall selling all kinds of jewelry with red gemstones. The stuff wasn't cheap, but would look fantastic on Khameir.

He perused their selection of studs until he found a piece that wouldn't look effeminate even to the most critical eyes.

"One of these, please", he said to the girl with the purple hair who hovered protectively behind the displays.

"One?", she asked, and eyed him. "Forgive my saying so, but you're not exactly the type for red."

"Nah", he said. "It's for my boyfriend." He closed his mouth. He hadn't just said that, had he? What in the seven Sith hells had he been thinking?

"He's one lucky son of a bitch, then", she concluded.

Obi-Wan paid in a daze and ambled around until he found a place where he could think for a moment.

Boyfriend. If he weren't a Jedi, that would describe his and Khameir's relationship exactly. It wasn't like Khameir was rejecting Obi-Wan's advances, not anymore, at least, and advances they had been, no matter what he'd told himself.

The two of them needed to have a good, honest talk, and soon.

xxx

"Ah, young Sarin", Master Yoda said. His voice crackled a little than usual. "Gotten my message you have, I see."

"Yes, Master."

"Discussed your request, we have. Free you are to leave the Temple if accompanied by a Jedi of age you are. Also, require we do that you check out and check in with the reception office. With formal identification they will provide you."

Everything considered, the restrictions could be worse. "Thank you, Master Yoda."

The little green alien blinked good naturedly. "Thank Padawan Kenobi you should, because help you integrate the most, he did. Also, thank you he should."

That was news. "Why, Master?"

"Much good the responsibility did him."

Maul nodded. He supposed he'd been a bit of a burden in the beginning.

"Doubt I do that we will see each other again soon, young Sarin. May the Force be with you."

Huh? "Thank you, Master. May it be with you, too."

Once more, the ancient master blinked, as if in on a joke with the Force that nobody else would understand, then the connection was ended.

Resolving to puzzle about Master Yoda's strange remarks later, Maul went over to the tech department. The Bloodfin needed a looking over before he could take it out again.

Half an hour in, something changed. A slight chill ran up Maul's spine and settled in his ribcage like an impending heartache. Closing his eyes, he searched the Force for more details, but it wasn't very forthcoming. It had something to do with Kenobi – as if he couldn't have guessed – and it asked for honesty and decisiveness.

Hah. If anything, he was the one of them who wasn't lying to himself. Leaving the Bloodfin for another day, he stomped back to his place, where he met a nervous looking Kenobi.

"Evening", Maul said, trying to sound less annoyed than he was.

"Evening, Khameir. We need to talk."

"I had a feeling you might drop by." He palmed the door open and beckoned Kenobi inside. The padawan stopped in the middle of the room, crossing his arms and shrinking as if suddenly cold. Maul ignored the plea for help and went to lean against the wall, thumbs hooked in his belt, refusing to copy the body language.

"So talk", he prompted after a few silent seconds. If he was going to get dumped, he wanted to be over and done with it as soon as possible.

Kenobi sighed. "Look, Khameir… I'm sorry. I… I hit on you, although I knew we couldn't have a relationship. And I know you didn't exactly mind…"

Maul snorted. That was the Kenobi way of putting it.

"What I mean is, we have to keep it platonic." Finally the padawan dared to look at him, tentatively, hopefully. Biting his lower lip, too. Maul wished he could do that for Kenobi one day.

"I don't want platonic, Kenobi." He couldn't have something that delicious around and not want a bite. "You can't just string both the Jedi and me along, hoping you'll never have to choose."

Jaw set, Kenobi held himself straighter and turned to leave.

"Wait."

Kenobi stopped, but didn't face him.

"I'm not finished yet. Platonic or not, it would be an attachment. You can't have both, Kenobi. It's either them, or me. I know this means a lot to you", Maul drew a small circle into the air, indicating the Temple, "so I'd agree to a clandestine relationship. As long as you're aware that you are violating the code and as long as your first loyalty is to me."

Looking over his shoulder, Kenobi frowned. "I see."

"No, you don't, otherwise you wouldn't have turned up here with that half-assed suggestion. I'm willing to wait until you do, not forever, but a while. Come back when you're willing to make a commitment."

With a strange glitter in his eyes, Kenobi nodded and stormed out.

Maul let himself sink to the floor then; he felt himself shaking, vaguely angry, what had the twit been thinking? What had _he_ been thinking to break things off like that? Doing the opposite of what he had resolved to do. Instead of luring Kenobi ever closer until there was no way out, he'd chased the guy off. So much for the Sith art of turning Jedi… only he didn't quite want Kenobi turned Dark. He remembered Darth Sidious' lecture on Dark Jedi well enough.

… _There are subtle differences, my young apprentice. We Sith seek to employ the Dark Side of the Force to forward our own goals. The Jedi seek to be mere instruments of the Light. Once they are turned, they become instruments of the Dark, because they have never learned to will something into submission. A Dark Jedi can be useful if directed expertly, but in the end, they present a risk seldom worth taking…_

The Master might have been wrong… Maul had never seen why one would want to rule the galaxy. Yet his alter ego that had died at Kenobi's hands had wished to rule… something must have happened between now and then, something to make Maul give up his free will and to turn him into a real Sith. Something that had earned him the Title.

He shrugged. It was of no consequence now. Nothing was anymore.

xxx

Fortunately, Qui-Gon wasn't home when Obi-Wan returned. That way, he could just hide in his room and be angry in peace. Hell, he'd really like some actual doors to slam. He had truly risen to new heights of idiocy today.

First that insane idea with the earring. Then his slip on the market. And one abysmal conversation with Khameir. Not that the stupid bugger was completely innocent, leading him on like that and then ditching him. Asshole.

Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes; they were stinging. He was not going to cry. He'd take all his anger and frustration and dump it on the Force, that had caused the whole mess in the first place.

He kneeled, trying to calm down his hitched breathing. It didn't work. With a growl, he let himself fall to the side and didn't fight any longer.

Lost. All lost.

xxx

"Where is Khameir?", Bant asked, looking down at Obi-Wan.

"He won't turn up today."

She blinked, obviously confused, then slid into the seat opposite from Obi-Wan, the one usually saved for Khameir. He set his jaw, trying to ignore how wrong that felt.

"Maybe he's painting…", she guessed.

Obi-Wan shrugged.

"Well, he acts a little strangely sometimes. I wouldn't worry. Just, well, Garen said he got his hands on an uncensored version of Mines of Cali", last year's most discussed horror vid. Obi-Wan leaned a little closer. "And he thought you and Khameir would probably want to see it, too. We-", she stopped, and frowned.

"Oh, Obi-Wan", she breathed.

He blinked at her. What now?

"It's always you and Khameir. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you two were a couple, the way you're always hanging out together. You need to be careful. He might get the wrong impression, with him not being a Jedi and all."

"Interesting", Obi-Wan said, his voice strangely thick. He swallowed. He didn't need another bout of hysterics now, even if he missed Khameir. "I would never have thought of that."

She gave him a half smile. "You boys can just be so dense in these matters."

"Right. You're right. I should discuss that with him."

"You do that. I'm sure it's nothing. Anyway, we thought the day after tomorrow would be good."

"That's Khameir's naming day", Obi-Wan said.

"What?" she squealed. "And you're telling me only now? And of course you're going out and getting drunk."

Obi-Wan sighed. "No, we don't. He's not allowed out yet. And I'm sure he would want you to be there, so it would be out of the question anyway. We haven't discussed it, in fact…", he frowned, "I'm not even sure he knows."

That sent her off into a rant, which he tuned out. Pretending nothing had happened was one thing… one impossible thing, as Bant had proven. Khameir had put him into quite a dilemma with his refusal to play along with a rather stupid plan.

"… and I can't believe how insensitive you are", Bant finished.

"Look, I was going to talk to him anyway. I'll tell you tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes. "You'd better. And don't forget to notify Knight Kolar. Arrgh. How am I supposed to get a present on that short notice?"

Obi-Wan held up his hands. "I'm sure he'd be fine with anything."

She spent the remainder of the meal bouncing ideas off him, while he listened with half an ear. Dread and excitement both had settled somewhere in his intestines, making them squirm ever so slightly. He should have seen the mind healers about this months ago, back when it just had been an infatuation like many others before. Even now, they might succeed in restoring some semblance of peace… or not. It felt like Khameir had ripped his heart out yesterday, and Obi-Wan very much doubted he'd be able to grow a new one.

He vaguely registered Bant leaving.

Ignoring Khameir and not going to the healers wasn't an option, which meant Qui-Gon would find out one way or the other, and be very much disappointed. Obi-Wan sighed and stared into the swirls of leftover sauce on his plate for a while.

His whole damn life plan was being shot to hell over one tattooed freak – one who moved like a god and smelled like the desert and… yes, he did have it bad. The fact alone that he'd carried a crush around for so long and done nothing about it would forever be a stain on his resume.

And, if he was honest, he loved having a crush on Khameir, and loved that Khameir returned that crush. Knowing he was the only one Khameir would smile at. True, Khameir occasionally graced others with a grin or a smirk, but he did have an unguarded smile for Obi-Wan alone. He'd miss that, and the warm melting feeling it caused inside.

And anyway, the Force had practically deposited Khameir on Obi-Wan's doorstep, with a command to take care of the guy for her/him/it. It had been an attachment all along.

Well. Qui-Gon might actually believe his acting for a while longer… and in the end, Obi-Wan wouldn't be much good as a Jedi if he always wondered what could have been. Foolish as it might be to give up a known future in favor of an unknown and probably rather bumpy road, he couldn't not do it.


	9. 8: suck me in spit me out hold on tight

Part 8: suck me in spit me out hold on tight

All in all, Maul's day could have been much worse. He hadn't slept, which was a given when it came to trouble with Kenobi. Most of the night and morning had been spent on his couch, watching the air traffic thin and then take up again for the rush hour, replaying the final conversation with Kenobi, over and over. He hadn't bothered to get food, and finally had made himself stand up for his two saber classes. Using his anger over Kenobi's idiocy to make up for the lost sleep.

He returned directly to his place after that, and continued to stare. So he was pining. It wasn't like anyone cared.

When dusk began to settle, something changed again. The warmth that had fled yesterday was slowly returning. Interesting.

Five minutes later, Kenobi approached.

Maul stood blocking the doorway, and waited for the padawan to round the last corner.

"Hey", Kenobi said. "Can we talk?" He seemed much more at ease today. More determined.

"If you insist."

Kenobi grinned wryly. "Only if I have to."

Giving in, Maul moved and let Kenobi brush past him.

This time, Kenobi waited for the door to close only a couple of steps in, not allowing Maul to retreat to a safer spot.

"Look, Khameir", he began. "I'm an idiot."

It was a most curious opening. Maul decided to wait him out.

"You were right. Self-awareness isn't really my strong suit, I guess. Anyway. I…", Kenobi fingered his padawan braid for a moment, "I was hoping… if I could still take you up on your offer…"

Maul felt a silly grin spread on his face and found Kenobi grinning back. "I said I'd wait."

"Um", Kenobi uttered after a while and licked his lips. "Khameir… can I kiss you?"

So soon… yet Maul found himself blinking acquiescence. He watched Kenobi cross the distance, a look of fierce concentration on his face. Maul wanted to flee, but there was a pleasant weakness in his knees and there suddenly wasn't enough air anymore.

Then there was Kenobi's warm, sweaty hand on his chin, making him tilt his head just a little to the right. Maul closed his eyes, this was better than he'd dared to hope. Kenobi's breath on his face, and a soft, hot pressure on his lips for a second. Yes. Maul opened his eyes; Kenobi was staring back, eyes wide and a stormy green. More. Able to move again, he dug his hands into Kenobi's hair, eliciting a small smile, and dragged him closer.

xxx

Obi-Wan wasn't being stared at as he returned to his and Qui-Gon's apartment. He felt light and his face hurt from smiling, but nobody else seemed to notice. He wanted to climb a tower and shout at them, that he'd been kissed until there wasn't any breath left in him, that he'd offered himself, flawed as he was, and that he'd been accepted and forgiven; and it was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him and they didn't know what they were forsaking themselves.

Qui-Gon looked up from his reading when Obi-Wan entered, puzzled.

"Padawan… I haven't seen you so… bouncy in years."

"Khameir is allowed to leave the Temple now, Master", Obi-Wan said, the grin forming anew. "That means we can take the Falcon out soon."

"Hmm." Naturally, Qui-Gon wasn't that pleased with the development.

"You can come", Obi-Wan offered. There would be enough opportunities for alone time, they could make that concession.

"I think I will pass, thank you. I'd prefer you'd take a better pilot than myself along." Not to mention that he'd avoid Khameir that way.

"Garen maybe", Obi-Wan mused.

Qui-Gon shrugged noncommittally.

"Um, Master…"

"Yes?"

"Khameir's eighteenth birthday is in two days. Bant is determined to organize a party. I'd like to attend…", and not have a mission thrown his way, thank you very much.

Raised eyebrows greeted the criticism. "I will keep that in mind, Padawan."

"Thank you, Master."

Surely Qui-Gon could feel the downslide of their relationship, too. Ever since Qui-Gon had made them leave the Temple only days after Khameir had arrived, Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel a slight resentment towards his Master. He'd tried to let it out into the Force, but it kept creeping back. Likewise, Qui-Gon had to know that Obi-Wan kept large parts of his life to himself now… only he seemed to be blaming everything on Khameir rather than on their own issues.

xxx

"About tomorrow…", Khameir opened the conversation at lunch. Everyone leaned a little closer. They were discussing the viewing of an indexed vid, after all. "I'd say we use my place. Just us five, so Bant and Siri don't get into trouble."

Obi-Wan snorted. All of them had had their share of real life gore, but a vid rated x for violence was still considered forbidden.

"As long as you people bring food and stuff, I'm good."

Garen grinned and winked a question. Obi-Wan grinned back. The 'stuff' needed to be bought and smuggled in, after all. "And no gifts, please", Khameir continued.

Contrary to Obi-Wan's opinion he had been aware of the date, but had failed to realize he was supposed to celebrate it.

Bant pouted.

"I'm serious. Until last week I didn't even know tomorrow's my naming day." Khameir made a helpless gesture.

Obi-Wan yearned to reach out, but settled for finding Khameir's calf under the table – which proved to be surprisingly easy – and giving it a comforting nudge.

Likewise, Bant seemed ready to throw a pity party.

"Bant'n'I could make a cake", Siri offered through a mouthful of noodles. "So's you guys get th'other stuff."

Obi-Wan shot her a grateful look. The last thing Khameir needed was to be reminded of his perceived shortcomings repeatedly.

When Garen and Obi-Wan were on their way to a lecture later, Knight Kolar fell into step with them.

"Finished with your world domination plan yet?"

"Um", Obi-Wan said. Had they been that obvious?

The knight laughed. "Many, many years ago… like five… I was a padawan, too. I'd like to offer some help – someone might have alerted your respective masters."

"Um", Obi-Wan repeated.

"I'd drop by with the stuff and some congratulations and then leave you kids to your own devices. As long as you make sure the girls don't drink any of the harder stuff."

Garen's eyes nearly fell out. "We hadn't planned to get roaring drunk, thanks."

"Good. See you tomorrow evening, then."

With a friendly slap to Obi-Wan's shoulder, Knight Kolar left them.

"That guy's too good to be real", Garen said.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Khameir's lucked out with his friends."

"It's hard to believe he's not one of us, sometimes."

"Hmm", Obi-Wan agreed.

"You just wouldn't believe a Sith to be so quiet. And he's got a sense of humor, too."

"He's got amazing shielding."

"Still. Every time someone turns Dark, they start killing Jedi."

Obi-Wan winced.

"Sorry to bring it up. For a while I thought, maybe Khameir has a master plan that just requires a lot of work and patience... but, well, Khameir and patience…", Garen waved his hand as explanation.

"…not even living on the same planet. I know." Obi-Wan grinned. It was one of his …lover's less endearing qualities.

xxx

"You're late", Maul said when Kenobi finally showed up.

"Sorry. Qui-Gon gave me a talk on underage drinking."

Kenobi stepped in and eyed the place with raised eyebrows. Indeed, Maul had tidied up, because sitting around waiting wasn't doing anything for his mood.

Unceremoniously, he grabbed Kenobi's shoulders and backed him into the wall for a kiss, making him drop a bag he'd brought.

Kenobi's hands fluttered over Maul's chest for a moment, then slid to his buttocks and pulled…

…_feel what you're doing to me, my pretty little boy…_

Maul made himself go still and retreat half a step. No reason to panic. No reason to lash out at Kenobi. Slowly, he grabbed Kenobi's wrists and resettled the hands on his waist, away from the memories.

"Khameir? Look at me."

Kenobi was biting his lips again, and his eyes were blue and sad.

"I'm sorry, Khameir."

"Not your fault." His voice cracked at the edges. Maul cleared his throat. "You couldn't know."

"But I guessed. Months ago." Kenobi nuzzled his nose for a second. "I'm sorry your Master-"

Maul stopped Kenobi by putting a finger to his lips. "It wasn't my Master. I have no idea what he hoped to achieve by hiring…", Maul shook his head, "that one. But I know he was not pleased with the results."

"What happened?"

"I killed him."

"That is not what I meant."

"An exact recounting of events won't help me."

"I think it would. Whenever you feel ready."

Not ever. Maul turned and walked over to the window. Kenobi didn't follow.

"He was just your average child molester. Getting off on the power", Maul explained eventually. From some research, he knew his case was pretty much textbook.

"Hmm." Maybe Kenobi knew the textbook, too.

"So what about you and your Master?"

"You can't imply…", Kenobi's shock echoed through the Force.

"I don't." Maul turned and watched Kenobi, who had visibly paled at the insinuation. "But you two don't exactly have an open and trusting relationship."

Kenobi laughed silently. "No, we don't. His last padawan turned, you know. Yoda practically bullied him into taking me on, despite his protests."

That did explain a lot. "He's afraid I might turn you."

"Among other things."

They stared at each other for a while. Kenobi's eyes flickered, and he began to worry his lip again, as if suddenly doubtful.

"Obi-Wan… I wouldn't." He lowered his shields, inviting Kenobi to see. He couldn't have that stand between them. Others might find it too useful to exploit.

A smile spread over Kenobi's face. "I know." His Force presence brushed over Maul's mind like a caress, not searching, just reassuring. _I am honored by your trust in me_, it said.

_Likewise_, Maul thought back.

Kenobi's eyes widened. _Khameir? Is that you?_

_Obviously._ Maul grinned. _It seems we just established a telepathic link._ It was wonderful. Kenobi's presence was a sea-colored knot of trust and affection in the back of his mind.

_I can actually feel you in my mind, that's more like a bond than a link. I don't understand. _Pale green uncertainty washed over Maul. _Usually it's just Master-Padawan teams._

_What do I know? We're a precedence, Obi-Wan. I bet you we wouldn't be if romantic relationships weren't banned here._

_I suppose._ Kenobi chewed his lip again.

Maul sent him an image of what, exactly, he thought of that habit.

_I guess we can talk about this later,_ Kenobi agreed.

xxx

Only, of course, they didn't.

They spent the next half an hour kissing on the couch, and really, it got even better when you had a little practice.

Khameir's presence had gone from orange to vermilion desire, with the slightest flickers of brown unease when Obi-Wan let his hands wander south, so he stopped eventually.

"Khameir?"

"Hmm?" He looked down at him with half-closed eyes.

"I need to head back soon. Qui-Gon's in a pretty bad mood about tomorrow."

Their connection turned ocher with annoyance as Khameir frowned.

"Yeah, I know. So, um. I got a present for you, but it needs some… preparation. I need two ice cubes from your fridge and a stud. For your ear, I mean."

"What are you planning?" Khameir's confusion was pale orange.

"We're getting your ear lobe pierced."

"Are we?"

"If you want to."

"You bought me an earring", Khameir deduced. "Why?"

"Um", Obi-Wan said. "I can't say, really."

_Then show me._

_Umm. You did tell me you wanted another piercing. And I thought-_

_Stop prattling._ Khameir leaned forward and kissed him gently. _You bought me jewelry. That's not something you get anyone._

Obi-Wan grinned. _Well, you aren't just anyone. You're my boyfriend. I figured that's enough of an excuse to dote on you._

_Thank you._ It wasn't just the gift he was referring to.

xxx

So far, Maul didn't like naming days. He hated that he couldn't wear Kenobi's gift because it would draw attention. And obviously it wasn't enough that Bant and Siri had practically piled on him at lunch and alerted everyone present to a date Maul just couldn't find so important. No, someone in his classes had gotten wind, too, which had meant a flurry of handshakes, and now Camy had him in a bear hug, although he was sweaty and yearning for a shower.

"Happy naming day, kiddo."

"Thank you", he said and carefully extracted himself.

She wrinkled her nose. "I caught you at a bad time, huh? If you don't mind, I'll make us some caf while you hit the fresher."

"Sure."

It took a little longer than he'd expected – Kenobi checked up on him mentally and stopped to leer.

_Wish I could join you._

Excitement rippled over Maul, but he grabbed Kenobi by the metaphorical scruff of his neck and shoved him out regardless. _Not yet._

"How are you holding up?" Camy asked when he finally made it.

Maul shrugged and helped himself to some of the pastries she'd brought. "I don't see the reason for the fuss."

"Hm." She thought for a moment. "It's a way to be reminded that you're important to others."

He shrugged again. "Probably. Consumerism seems to factor in it, too."

"I suppose. Children are especially bad. I got a wish list that long", she pantomimed a scroll of roughly fifty centimeters, "from Aiken for his last birthday. It's damn impossible to not disappoint them."

"I didn't tell you not to give me something", he remembered suddenly.

"Eh. You better believe I would have ignored that. Anyway. I thought I'd treat you and whoever agrees to chaperone you to the Art Museum. Not today, though."

"Thank you…" Now, what to do. He'd love to take Kenobi. But she'd know something was up, just like Bant had apparently caught on; only Bant was too trusting of Kenobi's and his moral standards.

"You don't really sound all that enthusiastic", Camy complained.

Maul shook his head. "Camy… could you keep something quiet?" It was difficult to read her in that aspect.

She frowned at him. "That depends. If you're breaking the law in any way, then I probably could, but wouldn't."

"If it involved someone violating the Jedi code?"

Shrugging, she eyed him curiously. "I couldn't care less. I don't get them anyway. So spill."

"Um." He was rather glad the tattoo covered blushes. "I… um… acquired a boyfriend recently."

She doubled over in laughter. "Kiddo, your way of phrasing things is fairly unique", she said when she had recovered. "And you're too cute for your own good, too. Holy shit. Of course you can bring him." She shook her head. "Though it's a damn loss for the ladies. So who is the lucky guy?"

xxx

Although the vid was extremely suspenseful, it did little to distract Obi-Wan from the fact that Khameir had sneaked a warm hand under his tunic and let it rest on the small of his back.

_I dislike having to hide this. _He squirmed. _And you're not making it easier._

Khameir shot him a coy look. _I take what I can get._ Then he tilted his head and studied Siri – knees drawn up, biting her knuckles – and Bant, watching through her fingers. _Tell you what, I will let you watch this in peace… just stay put._

He sidled off and vanished into the shadows.

Obi-Wan squinted.

_Hard to see, the Dark Side is_, Khameir sing-songed. _I'm on the floor under the screen._

Sketching. Obi-Wan smiled at him and then ignored him as asked.

xxx

"You did what?" Kenobi asked and sat, shields wrapped tightly.

Maul picked at some hairs Kenobi had shed in his lap. He'd realized he could spend hours playing with Kenobi's hair, fascinated with the feeling of it.

"I told Camy", he repeated slowly. "You're the only one who wouldn't die of boredom in an Art Museum", besides Bant, and she was too young to chaperone him, "and she's a woman. She would have caught on no matter how proper we acted."

"I can't believe this", Kenobi huffed.

"Obi-Wan. I trust her, with my life. I wouldn't object to you telling anyone either, as long as they'd keep it quiet." Only Kenobi didn't know such a person, which might explain at least a part of this outburst.

"I still don't like it."

Maul reached out and took Kenobi's hand. "I would have asked your permission if I had known you'd get upset." He nuzzled the palm, which resulted in a partial letting go of the shields. "I will ask your permission from now on."

Kenobi sighed. _Quit talking and do that again._

Maul shot him a grin and obliged.

xxx

Obi-Wan trailed Khameir to the tech department. They'd just obtained a new and entirely faked ID from the reception, and now were about to collect the Bloodfin.

He touched the side of his head for confirmation that the padawan braid was safely tucked away into the ponytail. Somehow, he felt everyone should be looking at him, but they didn't. True enough, in the Temple his hair cut alone signified his status as a padawan, civilian clothes or not, but outside nobody would notice.

Tugging at his sleeves, he sped up a little.

_With your fussing, you're just making it worse,_ Khameir deadpanned. Indeed, his presence in the back of Obi-Wan's mind was yellow and dancing with amusement and some anticipation. _You look positively delectable in blue._

Casting his eyes down, Obi-Wan felt a blush creep up his neck to his cheeks.

_Hard to believe you are the same person who is spying on me in the shower._

And sometime soon his head would explode.

He heard Khameir chuckle.

"We're here."

Khameir climbed onto the bike and did something to the controls.

"Come on, Kenobi. I don't have all day."

Obi-Wan did as told and settled his hands on Khameir's shoulders tentatively. Khameir sped them to the landing platform, taking a few close turns around the assorted speeders and making Obi-Wan hit an imagined brake a few times.

"You want to hold on tight now", Khameir informed him and stopped the bike ten meters from the gate. He exuded some almost unholy glee over their connection. Swallowing his unease – there wasn't really a warning in the Force – Obi-Wan snaked his arms around Khameir's waist and clutched the belt, just in case.

Khameir revved the engine, accelerated and they shot out into Coruscant midday traffic for a few meters, until the momentum ran out and they started to plummet. It was fifty levels to the ground level.

_Khameir, you sodding idiot!_ Shrieking was out of the question, since his stomach already had taken up location in his throat.

_I warned you. Yi-haw._

At twenty stories, the bike turned into a wide, sloping curve, and joined the traffic at ground level. However, Khameir was still exceeding the speed limit by two hundred percent. Even if he didn't injure anyone, he'd still go to jail if someone actually managed to catch him. But, he was having fun. Their connection sang with exhilaration, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin in response to that much happiness.

_There is no emotion, there is peace,_ Khameir mocked.

Obi-Wan buried his nose in Khameir's shoulder. _There is both,_ he objected. _You wouldn't know one without the other._ Two sides of a coin, like dark and light.

_Welcome to reality_, Khameir sent him.

_I can't think straight at this speed._

_But the point is to feel, not think, isn't it._

_Keep your focus on the here and now, please,_ Obi-Wan scolded.

With a mental chuckle, Khameir did as told and kept silent the rest of the way.

They were early, which gave them enough time to find one of the scarce parking spaces.

Obi-Wan climbed off the bike and leaned against a wall. It was good to have some solid ground under his feet again. Instead of an apology Khameir kissed him briefly and offered a hand.

"Do you think that is wise?"

Khameir rolled his eyes, their connection fluttering with annoyance. "We already provided a display", he pointed out "And frankly, I don't care if it's wise as long as it feels right."

Feeling the blush creeping up his cheeks again, Obi-Wan took the proffered hand and had his knuckles kissed.

"Don't you think you're overdoing it?"

"Obi-Wan…", Khameir said exasperatedly. "I don't get that many chances to do things like that. I'm simply making up lost time, if you will."

"I know, but…"

"You're afraid they'll find out. Tell me, what is the worst that would happen then?"

"I go to the healers or leave."

Orange anger flared up along the connection, then was clamped down as shields slid into place. "_We_ leave", Khameir corrected. "At least I was under the impression we would."

Obi-Wan found himself dragged along the street toward the museum's entrance. He'd just messed up big time.

Halfway there, Obi-Wan finally had gathered enough courage to make them stop. "Khameir…", he tried to prevent an outburst that seemed to be building in his lover's eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply the healers were an option. It's just… lifelong indoctrination, I suppose."

He bit his lip, waiting for a reaction. It was impossible to say what was going on behind those supernova irises.

After long moments, Khameir blinked. "We're both fighting indoctrination." The shields slowly let up, hurt tumbling out.

Obi-Wan drew Khameir into an embrace, carefully resting their foreheads together. "Khameir… I'm very much in love with you and wouldn't want to miss it. Or you."

There was that smile, and for a moment there was only that warm fuzzy feeling flowing along their connection.

"Likewise", Khameir whispered.

They stood for a minute or so, drawing doting looks from passers-by. Obi-Wan was loathe to let go, but Camy was waiting for them, and time didn't just stop.

"Two months", he said.

"What?"

"I can't take this. If they haven't found out in two months, I'll tell Qui-Gon and we leave."

"Thank you", Khameir said and kissed him.

* * *

So… one more to go from here. Phew. This thing became a veritable monster. 


	10. 9: tired of everyone trying to save me

Part 9: tired of everyone who's trying to save me

Time passed; the deadline approaching steadily.

The Falcon turned out to be free of flaws, if still a little temperamental.

Kenobi and Maul spent most of their evenings making out on Maul's couch.

About a month in, Kenobi and Master Jinn got assigned a new mission.

"The Hutts have more or less taken over Oruba", Kenobi explained, his head on Maul's lap again. "The governor has been powerless for some time, and the tax flow decreased significantly, so we're supposed to find out what happened, and, if possible, take out the syndicate."

"Only now?"

Kenobi shrugged, which felt rather weird. "The Senate has a lot on its plate."

"The Republic is too big."

"That too."

Kenobi closed his eyes when Maul found the sensitive spot behind his ears. There was the usual purple desire seeping along the connection, laced with a hint of frustration. He picked at it.

"Khameir…", Kenobi said in response. "I've been trying not to pressure you, but… I want you so much it hurts."

"You hide that well." Maul felt the panic taking hold, his whole guts clenching.

A small smile played over Kenobi's face. "Judging by your reaction, I was right to. Could we…", embarrassed red crept into Kenobi's cheeks, "could we do something more? Something with less clothes on?"

"I don't know."

Kenobi reached out and lightly traced a finger along Maul's jaw line, making him shiver.

_Please? I'd let you set the pace and I'd stop whenever you wanted me to._

He hated this. This treacherous body that wanted and yet shied from touch, and this mind that trusted Kenobi and still clung to the memories.

_I'll try. Sit._ He needed to get used to this. He couldn't torture Kenobi like that forever. If only it were easier to let go. If only he could stop watching himself, guarding his every move. He commanded the lights out. Yes. This was a little better.

_Khameir… _Kenobi climbed to straddle his hips and kissed him, gently. _Relax. We're in no hurry._

_Liar._ Maul let his hands trail down and brushed over the tent forming in Kenobi's pants.

Shocked, Kenobi broke the kiss, and just stared in wonder. _More._ The purple fire in Maul's mind shifted towards ultraviolet.

As Maul complied with two more strokes, Kenobi moaned against his mouth, then made a small noise of protest as Maul stopped. The sheer power was overwhelming. He could probably tease the man to death if he tried, so damn needy was he. In response, Maul felt his pulse quicken and heat settling in nether regions. Closer. He needed to be closer.

Kenobi sent him a pleased vibe.

With unsteady fingers, Maul fumbled with the sash of Kenobi's tunic until it finally, finally fell open to reveal an expanse of pale chest almost glowing in the twilight. Kenobi struggled to shrug the tunic off. _Touch me_, he begged.

So Maul did, raking his fingers through that curiously wiry hair, marveling at the contrast of black hands on white skin. Muscles twitched under the touch, and he felt Kenobi's heartbeat accelerating. Dark nipples wrinkled and hardened under his circling thumbs, and Kenobi moaned again as he pinched them. The ultraviolet light slowly coiled in on itself.

_That look on your face is sexy as hell_, Kenobi told him and leaned in to nibble at Maul's throat. _But I'm at a disadvantage. May I?_ He asked and tugged at Maul's tunic.

_You may._ He had to help Kenobi, who was trembling. For him. Kenobi zeroed in on his nipples, and hmm. Maul growled. So this was what it was supposed to feel like. This was maybe too fast, but it also was too damn good and maybe slow was overrated after weeks of hesitation. He wrestled Kenobi off, pushed him on his back and from then it became a desperate quest for more friction, until a small ball of ultraviolet fire exploded in a nova of white light and burned his mind with intense pleasure and joy, and urged him to let go, and oh, yesss.

He collapsed on Kenobi, who oomph-ed and then kissed him.

_Thank you_, Kenobi said, sleepily. Maul watched as he drifted off, and Force, he'd never realized how beautiful Kenobi really was until now.

xxx

Obi-Wan woke up knowing he was being watched.

_Don't move_, Khameir's mind-voice instructed him.

Lazily, Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Khameir was sitting on the floor, sketching, the tattoo almost alive in the moonlight. Gods, he was beautiful.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan realized he had fallen asleep on Khameir, despite his resolution not to leave his beloved alone after something intense like this.

_I'm fine, Obi-Wan_, Khameir sent. And indeed, the connection burned a steady red tone of satisfaction and content.

"Was I out long?"

"Nah. Half an hour. Master Jinn won't be missing you for a while."

"Do I have to pose much longer?" Because there was a wet, cold stain in his pants and it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"No. You can borrow some of mine."

"And have Qui-Gon ask questions?"

"We knocked over some caf while having an arm wrestling contest with Knight Kolar", Khameir supplied with an impassive voice. "And you might decide to use the shower – we reek."

So Obi-Wan peeled his pants off, aware that Khameir's eyes were following him every step of the way, admiring. Despite everything, his whole back started burning with embarrassment.

"One day I will paint you like that."

Obi-Wan stopped dead and shivered at the solemnity of the vow.

_I won't ever be able to worship you like that,_ he sent, feeling small and inferior.

_Painting you is not worship, it's bragging,_ Khameir quipped.

Deciding to accept that at face value, Obi-Wan headed for the fresher.

xxx

Oruba would have been a holiday paradise if not for its remote location. Only a small tropical archipelago held settlements, with the continents unfit for habitation and lacking exploitable mineral resources.

Obi-Wan dug his toes into the warm sand and watched the sun set on Marango Bay in an explosion of color. As it was, most of its denizens seemed to be people who had wanted to get away from everything, or drifters that had washed up on its beautiful shore.

"Padawan."

Obi-Wan started. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even heard Qui-Gon step out of the little cabin they had rented.

"Yes, Master."

"I see you're back from your evening run." Disapproval oozed out through the training bond – after watching the local males and deciding they were right, Obi-Wan only wore some loose pants.

"Yes. I ran into someone I met last night, and they wanted to chat."

Qui-Gon made a small noise, probably still miffed that Obi-Wan had dared to seek out the next cantina and had gotten mildly buzzed on something they called 'Sex on the Beach', a pink concoction that consisted 'mainly of fruit juice', as the Twi'Lek barkeeper had put it. And he'd also gotten to talk to some people in the process. However, until now Qui-Gon had been disinclined to listen to Obi-Wan's highly interesting findings.

"Walk with me", Qui-Gon said.

A few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence.

"Your attire is not appropriate for a Jedi", Qui-Gon finally admonished.

"With all due respect, Master, this is an undercover mission. Besides, it's too hot for anything else."

"And with all due respect, Padawan, I find your attitude severely lacking of late."

Obi-Wan nodded. It had been inevitable.

"How come you're not making excuses?" Qui-Gon was clearly surprised.

"I'm not that self-delusional. I found myself having doubts and am working to resolve them."

"I would have expected you to ask me for guidance in such matters."

Obi-Wan shrugged. As if he'd ask someone who was as good as a parent to him about something like that.

"It appears that Khameir had a rather detrimental influence on you." There was a distinct air of sadness in that statement.

"Maybe. I prefer to think he was a catalyst of sorts." That wasn't entirely true, but maybe Obi-Wan would have confided in another master.

"I want you to see the mind healers once we're back at the Temple."

"Yes, Master", Obi-Wan agreed, not too meekly. "I will ask them for an appointment once we're home."

Qui-Gon did not comment on his choice of words. 'Home' was attachment. Home was where the heart was, and in Obi-Wan's case it was currently living in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

"No, I will ask. And I will see to it that you actually keep that appointment."

"I know that the patient is usually the last person to acknowledge that they need help, Master. Yet I'm very sure I'm not going to turn."

Qui-Gon just gave him a look.

"Anyway, while I was out behaving improperly yesterday, I found out a few things of interest. The people here have founded some kind of guerilla movement… they have a mole with the Hutts, and are determined to strike in the very near future. As soon as they've made sure Governor Carax is not going to be reinstalled."

"Is he a bad ruler?"

"No, I don't think so. It's more the fact that most people came here to get away from rulers."

"They are striving for anarchy?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I didn't quite understand that part."

"We have to find the Governor as soon as possible", Qui-Gon concluded.

"We'd be fighting on two fronts, then", Obi-Wan pointed out. So would be the islanders.

"If you are afraid of hurting your new-found friends…"

"Not particularly." He really wasn't, and they weren't friends just yet, either. "I'm more worried about causing a civil war."

xxx

It wasn't quite a civil war.

As Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were fighting their way out of the town to the spaceport, Obi-Wan was ready to kill the Governor. Unfortunately, one of the 'rebels', as Qui-Gon had dubbed them, had already done so with a few rather enthusiastic if sloppy blaster shots.

All had started so well… the rebels had stormed the Hutt's palace at dawn, catching everyone asleep or hung over. A few street fights and unsavory executions later, the Governor had decided to open office again and hold a speech… which had escalated to a desperate try to get at least the late politician's wife and son out alive.

Obi-Wan would never have expected such a thing from anyone he had met here; yet in an adrenaline, spice or alcohol induced high, people often did things they came to regret the next morning – provided they remembered them at all.

The town wasn't built for chases, consisting of flat detached wooden houses, sand, and palm trees. Obi-Wan jogged along the dusty road, tugging the woman along, desperately trying to keep up with Qui-Gon's longer legs and the lithe little boy. She was panting heavily, a lone, pale, pampered housewife on a planet full of sunburned, lean young people.

Shots lit the street as their pursuers rounded a corner.

Something was wrong – he pushed her to the ground, shouting out to Qui-Gon, but it was to late, a stuttering noise filled the air, and then small projectiles ripped holes into the road and into Qui-Gon's shoulder. Obi-Wan watched himself extend an arm and swipe the gunman off the roof he had hidden on. He had probably taken a shortcut over the beach.

The man screamed as he hit the ground, then there was silence. Their would-be attackers had come to a sudden halt, mouths agape. This wasn't a game anymore, and the Jedi meant business, after all.

Collecting himself, Obi-Wan felt along the bond for Qui-Gon, who responded weakly.

_Hurts like nothing else, but there are no vital organs damaged._

Good. Obi-Wan rose and glowered at the crowd. One wrong move and there would be hell to pay. Although he lacked Khameir's fierce looks, they understood and slowly melted into the shadows.

Obi-Wan dragged the woman up, helped Qui-Gon to his feet and they limped off to the small spaceport.

xxx

Maul knew that something was up with Kenobi, but due to the distance, he couldn't discern what. The sudden wave of anger from the other end had swept over him during a sparring lesson and had made him lose his concentration as well as another horn. Master Billaba had been extremely sorry as well as worried about him, but he had managed to distract her.

Now the Falcon was due to arrive any minute, and he was waiting.

As it finally swept in, the landing maneuver was as flawless as one expected from Kenobi, and it took a while until the ramp was lowered. A sickly looking woman and a boy emerged first, followed by Kenobi. He was suntanned and smiled widely when he spotted Maul. In comparison, Master Jinn seemed pale and unwell.

He waited as the welcome committee – consisting of Master Windu and some knight – went through the necessary motions and had the civilians ushered off, then he ambled over.

"Hey, Khameir", Kenobi grinned. _I missed you._ That suntan worked well with his hair color and especially his eyes. Master Jinn just glared.

"Good evening, Master Jinn", Maul said. "And hey yourself, Kenobi." _I missed you, too._ The glare became more intense at that, but Maul ignored it. "I had the feeling something was wrong."

"I'll tell you once my Master has seen the healers."

Ah, here was the reason. "Of course", he demurred, "I hope it's not too serious."

He did his best to fade into the background on the trip to the infirmary.

Once there, he had to wait again until Master Jinn was seen off to an examination room and Kenobi slumped down onto a chair. Maul leaned on the wall next to him.

"So?", he asked.

Kenobi smiled at his impatience. "We got into some trouble – there was some kind of underground movement trying to get rid of the governor even before the Hutts arrived. So trying to reinstall him was met with resistance. He was killed, we had to get out quickly with his family. Someone managed to shoot Qui-Gon." _I got angry and nearly killed the man_, Kenobi's mind voice continued. _At least they left us alone after that. But I was… I know I'm tainted, Khameir. I gave in and now I'm as tainted as Qui-Gon thinks I am._

Kenobi's presence was mud-green dejection.

_You don't feel tainted, Obi-Wan,_ Maul tried to reassure Kenobi. _There's a difference between a Force-user and a Sith. The Sith are tools to the Dark Side, even though they think they are not. Jedi strive to be tools. Drawing on the Dark Side in a sticky situation is one thing. Being a power-hungry fool and trying to employ the Force to your ends is something entirely different._

_But one could lead to the other_, Kenobi pointed out.

_I'm not creative enough to come up with a hypothetical situation where it would_. Either you wanted to see everyone cringe before you or you didn't.

_I heard that. I made them cringe, and it did feel good. But the end doesn't always justify the means._

That was a Jedi teaching, but if they didn't teach it, they would be as good as the Sith, if not worse. _I suppose not. But I still think it's a matter of character, or inner strength. It all depends if you can resist the temptation to make them cringe just because you can._

_That's one thin line._ Kenobi gnawed his lower lip again.

_Everyone has to draw their line somewhere. The point is that you didn't push to kill and that therefore, that man wasn't killed. You haven't crossed your line._

Kenobi swallowed and set his chin. Proud but oh so vulnerable.

And hell, Maul wanted to say hello properly. After their… experiment before Kenobi had left, the do-it-yourself approach had lost much of its appeal.

A Healer Padawan bustled into the waiting room and smiled at them.

"Padawan Kenobi? Master Jinn is well enough, thanks to your healing skills, but we'd like to keep him here for observation tonight. We just aren't all that familiar with bullet wounds." She smiled apologetically.

Kenobi nodded, but didn't seem to realize that he was being dismissed, lost in thought.

"C'mon, Kenobi. Go say goodnight or whatever and then we can get you cleaned up."

The girl shot him a grateful glance, and Maul could almost hear her thoughts. Wouldn't have expected that Dark Sider to be caring like this. It's cute, really.

Finally, Kenobi shuffled to Master Jinn's room, assured himself that everything was indeed well, and let himself be steered to his and his master's apartment. They stopped in front of the door, and Kenobi gave Maul an insecure, flickering look.

_Let's see what happens_, Maul sent, gazing at Kenobi with as much confidence as he could muster.

_Very well._ Kenobi palmed the door open and waited for Maul to enter.

xxx

This time it was Obi-Wan's turn to watch his lover's sleep. After some wrong moves on Obi-Wan's part, Khameir had been emotionally drained, and nothing much had happened. So far, he'd discovered that holding Khameir down in any way was ill advised, as was trying to speed things up by grabbing his hands and pushing them into the right direction.

Well. Things usually went better if he let Khameir take the initiative, so he'd just have to wait him out, as much as he hated it.

Cuddling up next to Khameir, Obi-Wan tried to just relish the feeling to be able to fall asleep and wake up next to his lover, at last.

xxx

Obi-Wan had never before seen a Twi'Lek that fat. Orn Free Taa, Senator for the Ryloth sector, waltzed into the room, his sallow skinned assistant and a few busty aides in his wake. One of them, a pretty red one, started when her eyes met Obi-Wan's, and he wracked his mind as to where he might have met her before. In the end, he shrugged it off – impolite as it was, all same-colored Twi'Lek girls looked more or less the same to him if he didn't pay attention to their presence in the Force.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had been asked to debrief the Senator personally, since Oruba was being represented by him.

"Master Jinn", he boomed. "And Padawan Kenobi. Have a seat. May I offer you a drink?"

They declined politely, and let themselves sink into the purple overstuffed armchairs the senator had littered this informal meeting room with.

"It's quite the unfortunate business. We had no information that there was a rebellion brewing, and we deeply regret to have sent you there without the proper warning…"

He prattled on in the usual politician's style for a minute longer.

"I'm aware that you were injured, Master Jinn. We'd like to invite you and your Padawan to a small, informal dinner as a sort of… reparation." He grinned as if finding the wording extremely funny. "Let's say this evening?"

Qui-Gon offered a smile in return. "I'm afraid my Padawan has a prior engagement", he said, and shot the red Twi'Lek a thoughtful look. Obi-Wan felt a small sick churning in his guts. Things were coming to a close. "But I should like to attend, if you don't mind."

The Senator raised his eyebrows, probably noting that he wasn't given an alternate date and coming to the correct conclusion – Obi-Wan was grounded until further notice. At least, Qui-Gon hadn't expressively forbidden him to receive visitors, so he was free to do some plotting with Khameir tonight.

"Very well, then. I'll have a shuttle pick you up at the Temple at nineteen hundred."

xxx

Waiting for Qui-Gon's return, Obi-Wan sat on the couch, his packed bag a comforting weight next to him. There really was no point in putting off the conversation much longer – something was up with that aide, and his first appointment with the healers was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. Since he had no intention to keep it, they might as well get the show on the road tonight.

It was nearly midnight when the door finally slid open. Obi-Wan rose, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Qui-Gon seemed to be rather… angry.

"Padawan." The greeting was delivered in clipped tones.

"Master." Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt extremely sad. He had never wanted to hurt Qui-Gon, but there was no alternative now that he had chosen to be with Khameir. "We need to talk."

"Indeed we do. I received some rather interesting news tonight."

_Khameir!_ he called. He had never planned to let Qui-Gon find out before he was well away.

xxx

Maul looked up into the dimly lit hangar. This time of night it was deserted – not that anyone had noticed his arrival on the Bloodfin in the first place. Kenobi seemed rather desperate. _What is it?_

The memory of a sentence sprang into his mind. _I received some rather interesting news tonight._

Hurry was advisable, it seemed. Maul steered the Bloodfin up the Falcon's ramp and secured it, all the while listening to a conversation on the other side of the Temple.

xxx

Exhaling slowly, Obi-Wan tried to calm down. Khameir had his back and knew what to do, he simply had to believe that. It was slightly unsettling to have Khameir just listening, with no messages coming through the other way.

It would be alright, though. It had to be.

"I was hoping to bring it to you more gently", he said.

Qui-Gon took one step forward menacingly, then seemed to realize he was being intimidating. He slumped, his whole stance speaking of defeat.

"You're breaking each and every rule we have, fornicating with a Sith for weeks, neither consulting the healers nor leaving us when you still had the chance to do so honorably. What about that would you have brought to me gently?"

Obi-Wan massaged the bridge of his nose. "He is not a Sith. And… I really don't know. That kind of news is always a blow. I'd just hoped there could be a clean break, you see. Khameir is still a prisoner here, and we'd hoped to rectify that…"

Qui-Gon shifted. "You do remember that he attacked me?"

"I do. He attacked you when he could have simply killed me." Obi-Wan shrugged. "He's opportunistic and incredibly good at emotional blackmail. But he's not evil."

His objection was swatted away like an annoying fly. "His dubious merits aside, what possessed you to forget everything you were ever taught? Having… a crush on someone isn't forbidden, and I know that it feels nice. Yet what matters is to overcome it. And if you cannot do it on your own, you seek advice."

"It's a bit more than a mere crush", Obi-Wan retorted. _Khameir, where are you? I need you here._

_I'm working on it. Stealing a ship isn't that easy._ The reply was a testy ocher.

"So I've been told", Qui-Gon stated dispassionately. Something was wrong here.

xxx

The sublight drive rumbled ominously when Maul started the engines. He really didn't have that much practice at flying ships. It boiled down to roughly ten hours worth of lessons and one test flight with this baby, where he hadn't been piloting. For all intents and purposes, he was worse than a rookie.

So. Now for the hangar door. It wasn't password controlled, so all he had to do was push the right button in the control room. He closed his eyes to see it better. There.

The gate screeched when it slowly slid open. So now everyone in this wing would be awake. Great.

As if on cue, the lights went up. He felt some people spill into the hangar, but didn't bother to check on their identities.

Well. Now… vertical thrusters on, slowly. The Falcon rose and came to a rocky standstill midair. Now all he had to do was maneuver out of this place. To top it all, some of the intruders had apparently found the control room and halted the gates, obviously confident that he wouldn't try and squeeze through.

He reached out to Kenobi, felt some panic similar to his, but also trust. Kenobi was in a sticky situation and relied on Maul to get him out.

Narrowing his eyes, Maul reached out to the Darkness. Stupid Jedi. They should know better than to threaten what was his. Suddenly, everything came together, flowed easily, and there was enough room. Maul pushed the throttle.

xxx

"Who told you?" Two could try to buy time.

"One of the Senator's aides. Apparently, she saw the two of you kissing at the museum." There was a look on Qui-Gon's face that spoke of disgust.

"Would it be easier to understand if it were a girl?"

Qui-Gon blinked, obviously taken by surprise. "I can't say I understand your attraction, but no, not much. I merely don't understand why you would throw away all this for something that most assuredly will not work out. You two have extremely different backgrounds, he's lacking most social skills. And puppy love rarely makes it past the initial phase of raging hormones." Yes, Qui-Gon was most assuredly playing for time.

"I'm nineteen. I know a case of hormones from actual affection. And Khameir… he wouldn't rip your head off for that."

"Excuse me?"

Just then, anger and protectiveness swept along the connection and made Obi-Wan take a startled breath. This was the Dark Side being asked and responding. It held an odd sort of beauty, all that energy being released just for him. Soon now.

He concentrated so he could elaborate. "To stay in your simile, a puppy would probably try to chew your head off at being called a puppy. Khameir would raise an eyebrow and would refuse to take the bait. He'd find more subtle means to get back at you."

"Yet I find your hackles raised."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Guilty as charged. Any sort of reaction would just confirm your opinion, so why try to think of something original."

The sense of darkness increased, and suddenly, Qui-Gon's eyes flickered to the window and stared at something behind his shoulder. Obi-Wan ignored it and made a grab for his knapsack just as blaster bolts ripped into his bedroom's wall.

_I can do this more elegantly with my saber,_ he pointed out, and the fire ceased.

Qui-Gon had ducked from the shots, so Obi-Wan was free to escape to his room and seal it shut just as Qui-Gon hit it with his fists. Outside, the Falcon hovered with the ramp open, a few meters from the building.

"I demand that you stop this right now, Padawan", Qui-Gon yelled.

Well, shit. Obi-Wan stepped over some debris on the floor, activated his saber to cut the window out. Just then a green blade pierced the door, Qui-Gon obviously having the same idea.

Finally, Obi-Wan was able to drag the pane in – it wouldn't do to accidentally let it land on someone's head or speeder. He stepped to the opening, and the gales ripped at his hair. They were high up here. Forcing himself to not look downward, he threw the bag, and Force-pushed it up the ramp so that it wouldn't fall off.

"Padawan."

Obi-Wan turned, to look at Qui-Gon who shook his head dejectedly.

"I was right all along. I should never have taken you as a student."

Briefly, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "I won't say there wasn't any other choice. This", he gestured to the ruined room, "is mostly my fault. I'll pay for the damage as soon as I have the credits. I'm sorry."

He turned and jumped.


	11. Outro

Outro

The Cactus Garden was sweltering in the midday sun. It was an arena like structure on top of a building, terraced with dry-stone walls, allowing the cacti the maximum amount of sunlight without leaving them open to the wind… . It was lonely and eerily silent, as if there was more desert outside, and not the usual Coruscant traffic.

Obi-Wan could easily see why Khameir loved this place so. It was the utter opposite of what he had been subjected to in his training, and it was just Obi-Wan's luck that he'd braved his master's wrath by making a stop here and meeting Camy and Aiken. Without it, who would know what might have happened.

Now Obi-Wan was waiting for Qui-Gon. Khameir was at Ronya's gallery, delivering the paintings he had finished on Oruba, and Obi-Wan had contacted his old master.

It had been half a year, which was hard to believe; it felt longer. The damage to the Temple was long since paid for, as was the Falcon. Khameir had left the couch-painting behind, as well as some smaller pieces, together with a note of ownership, in lieu of hard currency.

Sometimes Obi-Wan missed the Temple. He had one of the sketches from the couch-painting, and he knew that Garen, Bant and Siri had received the same for their trouble of sitting through several hours of other vids just so that Khameir could get the color and lighting right.

Maybe they had burned theirs. It would be all too understandable.

Obi-Wan cast out with his senses, but there was no threat. The Council still had a score to settle with him, but he'd asked Qui-Gon for a meeting alone, and to bring a knife.

Finally, he felt his former master approach.

"Master Qui-Gon", he greeted and rose. It was a lot more awkward than he had anticipated.

"Obi-Wan."

Silence settled and made to unpack the picnic basket before Obi-Wan found something to say.

"Are you doing well?"

"It could be worse." There were more lines on Qui-Gon's face than before. "How are you doing?"

"Very well, thank you." They were hunting slavers and pirates for a living, and it was a satisfying occupation. Things with Khameir were sometimes smooth, sometimes bumpy, but that wasn't exactly a revelation. However, they wouldn't come to a stop anytime soon.

"So why did you ask me to come here?"

"To apologize. I shouldn't have emulated Khameir and tried to work things out on my own. It was a very immature thing to do. The decision would have been the same, but it might have been less painful."

Qui-Gon nodded, but didn't offer any words of forgiveness.

"Also, I would like to make things formal." He tugged at his Padawan braid. "I searched my heart and found myself unfit to be a Jedi. Master Qui-Gon, I therefore ask you to take this braid from me and thus release me from service."

It was a ritual to sever a training bond, rather depressing, and degrading, but necessary. Obi-Wan steadied his breath and waited at his end of the connection.

"I claim this braid as a remainder of your failure", Qui-Gon said at last. He produced the knife and ever so carefully cut the braid without touching Obi-Wan's skin even once. "You enter your new life without any mark of learning, skill or honor. May you earn yourself such anew as the time passes."

Obi-Wan tugged at his end of the bond, and it unraveled. The hole it left wasn't quite as big as expected.

"Thank you, Master. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan turned and walked off, although Qui-Gon looked ready to burst into tears on the spot, and like he might need some comfort. Yet all the Master would do was meditate.

When Obi-Wan cried himself to sleep that night, and Khameir whispered nonsense into his ear to soothe the pain, he found that he much preferred his method.

Fin.

* * *

So. This is it. I hope you enjoyed reading this, and I would like to thank everyone who left their carefully guarded anonymity and wrote a review. 


End file.
